


Forget Love (I'd Rather Fall in Chocolate)

by cloverfield



Category: Shiritsu Horitsuba Gakuen, Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shiritsu Horitsuba Gakuen, Background Watanuki/Doumeki, Chemistry, Cultural Differences, Cultural Misunderstandings, Fai's Too Oblivious For His Own Good, Gratuitous Chocolate references, Implied Sakura/Syaoran - Freeform, KuroFai Olympics, KuroFai Olympics 2020, Kurogane Does Not Get Paid Enough For This, Less Slow Burn More Didn't Realise The Torch Was Lit Until You Caught Fire, Light & Fluffy, Love Epiphany, M/M, Mutual Pining, Office Betting Pool, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Comedy Narrator, Teacher/Teacher relationship, Team Fluff, The Author Attempted Comedy (And Probably Failed), Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Valentine's Day, WAFF, White Day, Whoops I'm In Love With My Best Friend, colleagues to friends to lovers, not safe for newbies, valentine's chocolate, various CLAMP cameos - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 32,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25878442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloverfield/pseuds/cloverfield
Summary: Fluff vs Angst Olympic fic for the prompt 'Mokita(Kivila): the truth everyone knows but agrees not to talk about'.Everyone knows that giving someone chocolate on Valentine's Day is a way to confess your feelings. Everyone knows being given a gift on White Day in return means your feelings are reciprocated. And everyone - and we meaneveryone- at Horitsuba Academy knows that Kurogane-sensei is in love with Flowright-sensei.(Except, apparently,Fai.)
Relationships: Fai & Yuui, Fay D. Fluorite/Kurogane, Kurogane & Tomoyo, Watanuki & Doumeki
Comments: 27
Kudos: 112
Collections: 2020 KuroFai Olympics - Fluff vs Angst





	1. Valentine's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s Valentine’s Day, Kuro- _kokoro_ -sensei – I thought we might have a little fun with chocolate. All in the name of science, of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my entry for the 2020 KuroFai Olympics! Yours truly is proud to be representing Team Fluff for the prompt ' _Mokita (Kivila): the truth everyone knows but agrees not to talk about_ '!
> 
> Please enjoy a light-hearted and very silly rom-com set in Horitsuba... which is like, the exact opposite of everything I usually write [sweats loudly]

Soon, it would be Valentine’s Day.

The holiday born from the gory celebration of Christian martyrdom had crossed the path of commercialisation and capitalism, engendering a thousand-thousand terrible romantic comedies along its way – and yet somehow still retained the pure heart of romance at its core. For lovers across the world, it was a celebration of all things heartful: blushing confessions and delighted reciprocations, red roses bound up with silken ribbons, cuddly teddy bears aplenty… and of course, _chocolate_.

The second-most important day on the chocolatier’s calendar, Valentine’s Day was an excuse for excess, indulgence, and liquid-centre truffles. Chocolate hearts in red foil flew off the shelves in cities worldwide, sacrifices on the altar of modern romance as the love-struck carried out Cupid’s own mission to win the real and non-confectionary hearts of their chosen ones.

And while the university town of Tomoeda – an hour or so shy of Tokyo, if one took the local express train – was no metropolitan monolith, there were certainly enough lovers pursuing their beloveds to keep the local economy thriving with the booming demand for flowers, sweet treats, and no small amount of lacy underthings meant to titillate and delight. Mid-February was the time, the first flirting flush with Spring the season, and while the cherry blossoms were still tightly furled and the air cool with Winter’s last breath, the hearts of the students of Horitsuba Academy were in full bloom. Young romance blossomed in the decorated hallways, in the giggles hidden behind hands, in the secret love notes slipped into lockers. The air was sweet with whispers, the fluttering hearts and eyelashes of the student populace at once spectacle and distraction, and it was almost certain that not a scrap of homework was actually being completed anywhere across campus.

And it was on campus, somewhere amongst the labyrinthine maze of staff cubicles in the large office known affectionately as the ‘Bull Pen’, that Fai Flowright found himself sighing over his work. Swiss-born and of mixed European (though mostly French) ancestry, Fai had become part of the cohort of teaching staff that called Horitsuba Academy home some six months ago – a dramatic sea-change indeed for an analytical chemist who had spent the early years of his career at the University of Florence. Thirty-three, single and the identical twin brother of an incredibly talented pâtissier, Fai flicked through the stack of classification homework he was supposed to be grading with idle fingers, his thoughts drifting in time with the fan-driven breeze that tousled fluffy blonde hair. Immune to the teenage ardour filling the halls of the academy with shining flowers and rosy pink bubbles in the days leading up to the holiday in question, Fai huffed a tired breath as he circled with red pen, and was no wiser to the tides of romance than he might have been to the gravitational pull of the moon.

Which was unfortunate for Fai, as most certainly it was his complete obliviousness to the uniquely-Japanese cultural context that surrounded Valentine’s Day that would result in him making what was the worst – or quite possibly the best – mistake he had ever made in his entire _life_.

* * *

By mid-afternoon Wednesday on the 14th of February, the speed of teenage romance had reached terminal velocity as it bounced between students, leaving starry eyes and flushing cheeks in its wake.

And while ‘romantic’ was one of the least applicable descriptive terms that came to mind when the student body pictured Flowright-sensei (‘mad scientist’ being far more likely), it could not be said that he was a miser of any kind. To the delight of his second-year class – not to mention the bemusement of his colleagues – Fai had planned something special for his last period Chemistry tutorial. Armed with his brother’s second-best set of palette knives, several kilos of the highest quality couverture chocolate chips, and a ridiculously heavy marble slab that had definitely not been pilfered from the Culinary Club’s clubroom, Fai had opted for a hands-on demonstration of the unique chemical and structural processes involved in tempering chocolate.

His lesson plan had proposed demonstration of crystallisation and discussion of molecular components and the function of chemical agents, and absolutely that was what was happening in the classroom – it just so happened that said demonstration and discussion involved the eating of rather a lot of chocolate in the process.

“So, this bit is a lot trickier than it looks – chocolate, particularly high-quality chocolate like this good stuff here, contains a certain percentage of cocoa butter.” Palette knife in hand, Fai smoothed the silvery blade over the molten mass of dark chocolate cooling on the slab in front of him. To the untrained eye, his movements were lazy and effortless, but close attention revealed the precise angle of his wrist and the taut tendons in his forearms beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his labcoat. “And cocoa butter, as we know, is a compound of oleic, palmitic and stearic fatty acids. Fatty acids help give chocolate its crystal structure, and are used to help distribute flavour – when you sink your teeth into a chocolate bar, the heat of your mouth and the solvent effect of your saliva helps diffuse all the interesting taste substances to the receptors on your tongue.”

The surface of the worktop gleamed, a glistening chocolate wave beneath the flat blade of the knife as Fai swept it across smoothly – and then, to the utter shock of his classroom audience, suddenly scraped the entire mass of chocolate right back into the warming bowl he’d poured it from. Laughing at the noisy outcry, Fai hefted the bowl back into his arms and stirred vigorously. “Don’t panic – I know what I’m doing, I promise!”

Despite the frantic motion of his hand, Fai’s voice was level and his tone light as the hardened chocolate melted quickly back into warm liquid. “This is called _tempering_ – the process where chocolate is cooled and reheated to reduce imperfections, increase hardness, and improve colour and shine. It’s pretty similar to how metal is tempered by a blacksmith… except a lot tastier.” Settling the bowl back in its warm water bath, Fai ladled out a generous dollop onto the marble worktop once more, holding up the spoon so that melted chocolate ribboned from its bowl in a thick and oozing spill. “Hands up if you want to eat this right now,” said Fai and laughed as more than half of his kids shot their hands straight up. A notable dissenter was Shizuka Doumeki, the notoriously picky eater of the class, who stood towards the back of the group with arms crossed in cool indifference.

Replacing the ladle, Fai took his palette knife in hand once more. “Doesn’t it look good, all shiny and nice? That’s because, as chocolate is tempered, the cocoa butter inside the compound is bullied into a six-phase polymorphic crystal by the constant cooling and reheating process – a type V crystal, to be exact.” The scratching of pen on paper notebooks joined the rhythmic scraping of the knife blade. “Have you ever noticed that when you put chocolate in the fridge that after a few days it develops a white film on it, and feels kind of chalky? That’s called a fat bloom – it’s what happens when your lovely type V crystals start to slowly change to type IV crystals, which aren’t as pretty. And that’s also why you should put any leftover chocolate in the cupboard, instead. Or just eat it, that works too,” Fai added, provoking laughter.

“Tomoyo-chan, please take the lid off the red plastic container on the edge of the bench for me.” Perking up, Tomoyo took the container in hand, and peeled off the flexible lid to reveal the chunks of chocolate inside it. They were as chalky as Fai had said, barely looking like chocolate at all. “That is what poorly-tempered chocolate looks like. Still tastes like chocolate, but if you take some and eat it-” Fai nodded at Tomoyo, whose face lit up with a smile as she took a small piece between careful fingers and placed it in her mouth “-you’ll notice it _feels_ different. Tomoyo-chan, can you tell us what the chocolate is like?”

“It’s sweet but it’s crumbly,” said Tomoyo, still chewing and with her hand delicately covering her mouth. “It’s almost… chewy?”

“It’s not the same as when you bite into a nice truffle or chocolate bunny, is it?” Tomoyo shook her head. “Thank you Tomoyo-chan. Please put the lid back on for me.” Scraping the chocolate off the marble and back into the warming bowl once again, Fai continued as he stirred the chocolate forcefully. “ _Oof_. This gets quite tiring if you do it for too long.” Despite it being cool from winter’s last gasp, Fai could feel the sweat of effort beading in the small of his back, soaking into the shirt beneath his labcoat. “As I was saying, that crumbly texture is because of those type IV crystals. Chocolate that is comprised of mostly type V crystals has a distinct snap to it – when you bite into it, it breaks cleanly and sharply, and the fat bloom is absent from its surface.”

Fai nodded at a different student. “Syaoran-kun, please step forward – can you take the lid off the blue plastic container, and show everyone what’s inside it?” Syaoran, flushing at the sudden attention of his peers, stepped forward. In his hands the blue container showed itself to be just as full of chocolate as its sibling, but these pieces were dark and glossy, and looked smooth to the touch. “This is chocolate that has been tempered correctly – see how it has a gloss on it? You might not believe it, but if you temper your chocolate correctly and for long enough, you can even produce a mirror shine to it. Now take that container, Syaoran-kun, and pass it around – I want everyone to have the opportunity to try a piece of chocolate that’s been tempered by a professional.” The container was passed from hand to hand, and a chorus of appreciative murmurs sprung up from those chewing thoughtfully.

Laying the bowl back into its warming bath again, Fai didn’t pour more chocolate onto the marble straight away – instead, he fished out a mould from the canvas bag on the benchtop next to him. True to the spirit of the season, it was heart shaped. “If you’re making a moulded chocolate, you should always temper it first. Those type V crystals help structural integrity, which is something you need to think about if you’re going to make something with a filling.” Opening the shell of the mould, Fai lifted it up for his class to see. “Now, I’m not a professional chef – I’m a chemist. I’m sticking with something simple here, a solid heart.” Clipping the mould together and pressing firmly on the seal, Fai smiled back at the excited faces watching him. “If I’ve tempered my chocolate correctly, I won’t need to coat the inside of the mould with any kind of non-stick agent, like a fat or a plastic lining. Instead, the tempering process should mean my chocolate sets cleanly and will be easy to remove.” Fai started ladling the melted chocolate into the small opening, trying his best not to spill any of it as it poured. “Of course, if it all goes wrong, I can just eat the evidence and no one will know.”

More laughter from the class, and a raised hand near the front. “Yes, Kimihiro-kun?”

“There’s still a lot of chocolate on the benchtop there. Are we going to get a chance to try tempering chocolate too?” Normally shy, the easily-flustered Kimihiro was something of an amateur chef – his interest in chemistry had increased significantly when Fai had started covering the different kinds of chemical interactions in food and cooking, and it thrilled Fai to know he’d helped to bring the boy out of his prickly shell.

“Absolutely.” A chorus of cheers sprung up, startling Kimihiro and making Fai grin as he spooned more chocolate into his mould. “Naturally, you’ll all be expected to document the process, and I want an illustration of the differences between our type V and type IV polymorphic crystals.” The enthusiasm died down a little as the less-scholarly amongst the group realised the class activity wasn’t all fun and games. “But once you’ve demonstrated to me that you can temper chocolate correctly, you can use the moulds I’ve brought in for you all to make your own Valentine’s hearts.” That brought the enthusiasm right back to a simmer, excitement sparking between the kids in almost visible discharge arcs.

Lifting his now-full mould, Fai tapped the plastic gently on the worktop. “Don’t forget to tap your moulds gently once they’re full – it helps get the bubbles out.”

“Flowright-sensei, you’re really good at that,” said a sweet voice. “I’ve seen my brother making chocolates before, and he never tapped them.” Sakura Kinomoto, the young lady who’d spoken, was watching in awe as Fai slipped his thumb over the pouring hole in the mould and rotated it gently to ensure full coverage of the liquid chocolate inside.

“Thank you, Sakura-chan – I’ve had a bit of practice making chocolates.” And Fai had. Spending his summers working in various restaurant kitchens with Yuui as a teenager hadn’t just given him pocket money, but an eclectic mix of skills that he’d found quite useful over the course of his career. There were a lot of similarities between the culinary arts and the sciences, and it wasn’t much of a surprise that between the two of them, he and his brother had taken different paths that appeared superficially different, but were still connected at the core.

“Ohoho! Who did you make _honmei-choco_ for Flowright-sensei?” The ladylike giggle interrupting Fai’s musing could be no one else but Tomoyo once more – and it was, and not only that but her teasing expression provoked even more tittering from the rest of the class as her question sunk in.

 _Honmei-choco? Haven’t heard that before_.

And Fai truly hadn’t. While he spoke fluent Swiss German, Italian and the Swiss Lombard dialect, not to mention English and a decent smattering of French, Fai would not have called himself fluent in Japanese – despite his skill level being more than high enough to teach complex chemistry concepts, the lingua franca of science was altogether different than the rapid-fire Japanese that peppered him daily. And while linguistics theory suggested that immersion was the best way to learn, there were some words that Fai simply didn’t grasp the full context of until they were explained to him. This new word, ‘honmei-choco’, was definitely one of them.

_‘Choco’ definitely comes from chocolate, so it’s probably something to do with the chocolates everyone was swapping earlier today. Which makes sense – chocolate on Valentine’s Day isn’t exactly a new concept. But ‘honmei’ means favourite… favourite chocolate? What does that mean?_

When faced with doubt, Fai simply chose to do what he did best: bluff his way out of it.

“I haven’t given out any chocolate today, Tomoyo-chan – and if I did, it certainly wouldn’t be telling _you_ , now would I?” said Fai with theatrical primness, and provoking laughter with his snooty tone. “Let me have a little mystery, hmm? A student should not know the workings of their teacher’s love life.” _As if I had a love life. I think the closest I’ll get to a hot date tonight is a bottle of wine and Netflix._

His playful rebuff had done the trick, however, and Tomoyo joined the rest of her classmates in their activity after taking her seat. The set-up the kids were using was a simple warm bath and glass bowl, but it was more than enough for the purpose of the lesson. And while the kids were occupied – and they would be for a little while yet; it would take at least twenty minutes to complete the first stage of tempering – Fai had enough time to write up the actual chemistry part of his lesson on the board.

“Extra credit to anyone who can tell me what this chemical is!” Fai called out, whiteboard marker squeaking as he scrawled _theobromine (C7H8N4O2)_ on the board. The regular culprits shot their hands into the air or called out immediately, but Fai took his time drawing the molecule, hoping one of the less-enthusiastic participants in his class might put their hand up instead. And much to his surprise, it was Shizuka’s hand that caught his eye. “Shizuka-kun, would you like to tell me what this is?”

“Theobromine,” said Shizuka flatly. “It’s a chemical in chocolate. It’s toxic to cats and dogs.” That was unexpected – Fai hadn’t thought any of his students would know the specific chemical present in chocolate that made it dangerous for pets and other animals, even if they knew not to feed it to them.

“Very good. Theobromine, as Shizuka just said, is toxic to cats and dogs. In animals, it affects the nervous system, the kidneys, the heart and the bowels. Even a very small amount can cause gastrointestinal distress such as vomiting, might induce seizures, and in severe cases, may cause death. So, if you have a pet at home, make sure you put any of the chocolates you may have received today well out of their reach – we don’t want anyone losing a furry friend from accidental ingestion.” That comment caused a murmur of concern amongst the class, and at least one whisper about someone’s friend’s uncle’s dog who had died after eating an Easter egg.

“Theobromine,” continued Fai, “also has a significant effect on human beings. Who can tell me what theobromine does to the human nervous system?” He wasn’t looking for an exact chemical breakdown, but a general idea would be good – especially since it had been brought up earlier in the semester in a lesson on food chemistry.

Less hands went up this time, though still more than enough to make Fai hopeful some of his kids had done the recommended reading before class. In particular Sakura was looking excited, so Fai waved at her to speak.

“Oh! Theobromine is the love drug,” said Sakura and immediately a round of laughter burst out amongst her classmates. Face flushed, Sakura stood her ground and continued bravely. “It makes– it makes you feel good, and that’s why people say that chocolate is an _aphrodisiac_.” The last part of her sentence petered out into an awkward little whisper, accompanied by more titters, but Sakura hadn’t been wrong and Fai nodded as though she were perfectly correct – which she was.

“Where did you learn that, Sakura-chan?” said her seatmate, Tomoyo, in a stage whisper. As intended, it carried clearly across the room.

“My brother worked at a fancy chocolate shop that was called _Theobromine_ once,” whispered Sakura, not nearly as obviously. “He still has an apron with it written on it in English.”

Continuing on with apparent (but not actual) obliviousness to the gossip taking place at the front of the class, Fai continued. “Absolutely right, Sakura-chan. Theobromine is an alkaloid chemical derived from the cocoa plant, which acts as a stimulant. It’s quite similar to caffeine, in that it isn’t harmful and could even be considered beneficial or medicinal in small doses, but if ingested in large quantities can have adverse effects. So, think twice before you down too many energy drinks before exams, okay?”

Breaking down the molecular symbol on the board, Fai began listing the names of the individual components and their chemical symbols. “Now, if I were feeling mean, I would have you all making models of this molecule in chocolate to show me how well you’ve tempered it–” an alarmed flutter ran through his students, making Fai laugh “–but I’ll settle for you showing me your chocolate in its liquid state, and opening your moulds to show me how well they’ve set. Remember to show me what you make before you eat it!” he added at the last, as it was fairly obvious several students with chocolate-speckled faces had already gotten into their ingredients.

The class set about their task with gusto and several splashes of melted chocolate on the linoleum floor, making Fai proud and also wince a little, because most likely he’d be cleaning that up later. But it looked like the lesson had been a hit with the kids – he’d have to remember it for next year’s Valentine’s class, if he had one.

Fai settled back at his desk after cleaning up his bench top. Thanks to the cool temperature of the day (and a little time spent in the chill cabinet at the front of the room) Fai’s chocolate heart had set well enough that he could prise it free from the mould and onto a sheet of cellophane. To go with the chocolate activity, he’d brought in some coloured cellophane and ribbons to wrap the chocolate hearts in, as well as a piping kit and some decorative white chocolate icing for the kids who finished quick enough to take advantage of it all. It was the last class of the day, not to mention Valentine’s Day itself; there was no point in attempting strict and studious while everyone was so excited. Better to roll with a fun activity and hope the positive association made it memorable.

With the happy hum of his class at work a cheerful soundtrack, Fai set about decorating his own heart, purely for the hell of it. A few of the faster workers had caught sight of him, and started rummaging through the supplies he’d brought in at the front of the room in their excitement, but Fai was content with piping the letters _Be My Valentine_ onto his heart in careful loops of icing. He wasn’t as skilled as Yuui with a piping bag, but he wasn’t half-bad either – though the large size of his heart was definitely helping. The heart looked a little empty around the edges though, so Fai tried to make a flower – only to realise last minute he hadn’t left himself enough room near the left edge. _Whoops – actually, that looks a bit like a paw._ It really did, and it only took a few careful smudges with a damp paper towel to fix it into a neater shape.

 _Well, we were talking about pets before,_ mused Fai as he piped a small cat-head, complete with whiskers, to accompany his paw print. Next to the cat came a dog, since now he had a theme he might as well run with it. Another pawprint for the right side, and it was looking pretty good. _Shame I haven’t got anyone to give it to – maybe I should save it for Yuui?_ Even as he thought it, Fai knew it was unlikely – his willpower wasn’t the best when it came to sweet things, and also Yuui wasn’t due back from his secondment at the fancy international culinary academy in Osaka for the next three months. Even if he saw his brother on the semester break (which he probably would; it was only a train ride away, and Yuui had mentioned coming back up to Tokyo for a couple of days over the break period) it wasn’t likely his chocolate heart would have survived his appetite until then.

 _Valentine’s chocolate for one it is, with red wine pairing._ There were worse ways to spend the night, and it had been so long since Fai had a date besides it didn’t really bother him. It would have been nice, sure, to have a Valentine to whisper sweet nothings to – but it wasn’t something he needed. Besides, what would Fai do with someone in his life, anyway? He was a teacher first and foremost, and that was a lifestyle with its own demands. Anyone he ended up dating would have to understand that the kids (and his career) came first.

A rap on the door startled Fai from his reverie – also making him squirt chocolate icing all over the desk from squeezing his piping bag too hard – and Fai sprung out of his chair as though he’d jumped. “Come in, please!” Whoever it was, they were sorely mistaken if they thought they’d booked this lab tonight; Fai always made sure to double-book for his chemistry classes for the informal tutorials he ran after school on Wednesdays.

Except it absolutely wasn’t another of the science department teachers opening the door: it was Kurogane-sensei, looming in the doorway like a walking advertisement for one of the more expensive brands of men’s sports bodywash, and Fai couldn’t help how his smile grew wider at the sight of him.

* * *

To understand Fai’s somewhat helpless reaction to Kurogane-sensei, one first had to understand something of Fai’s complicated feelings for him. Feelings that Fai would have denied possessing under oath or tickle torture, feelings that were kept hidden behind a façade of goofy teasing and unintentional innuendo; feelings that he honestly didn’t appear to be aware that he even _possessed_ , seeing as his twin brother had tried to bring them to his attention on multiple occasions, only to be rebuffed by such stubborn, blithe obliviousness it was almost armour-plated.

(Out of the pair of them, Yuui had long determined that he was the sensible and reasonable twin, whereas Fai had landed himself squarely in the box labelled “I can’t talk honestly about my emotions” sometime soon after the onset of puberty. Which wasn’t so troublesome when you were brothers as close as only identical twins could be, except it rather made one want to slam their head repeatedly against the wall while one’s older sibling made a hot mess out of every romantic relationship he’d ever been in.)

Kurogane himself – that is to say, Youou Kurogane, twenty-seven, physical education and health sciences teacher at Horitsuba Academy – was a lot easier to understand once you got to know him; the man was essentially the poster boy for What You See Is What You Get, being honest and open with how he felt almost always… which meant he was almost always walking around the campus with a terminal case of resting bitch-face. His default expression was a scowl that looked like a man on the brink of annoyed and creative homicide, regardless of what he was actually thinking about at the time, and any forced attempt at smiling was almost worse: he had, in fact, made a lost or scared toddler cry on at least three separate occasions by trying to smile in a comforting manner.

Within five minutes of commencing employment at Horitsuba Academy and being introduced to the man’s lethal glare on his orientation tour, Fai was absolutely convinced Kurogane had hated him on sight. Over the first few days of his new position, Fai’s cheery greetings to his desk-neighbour were met with cool indifference, and his rejected overtures towards the start of a collegial friendship only grew Fai’s suspicions that the man was secretly planning to murder him and bury his body in the garden beds behind the school – an impression that continued on for the first three weeks of their acquaintance, and perhaps would have continued on indefinitely had not it been shattered completely by Kurogane himself later.

Kurogane, to the untrained eye, was cold, intimidating and almost unbearably grumpy when spoken to. His diction was aggressive, his grammar forceful and the tone of his voice devastating: dark, deep and altogether too lovely for a man that appeared to be five seconds away from stapling your sleeve to your desk for interrupting him at his work. He grumbled almost constantly while doing paperwork, was unbearable if he missed out on his afternoon tea break, and in what was perhaps the greatest sin of all, he was _absolutely_ a morning person. Kurogane rose every day before dawn for a brisk run in the early morning air, come rain, hail or shine, and more than once Fai had stumbled to work on a Monday hung-over from a late night dinner with his brother on Sunday to find Kurogane fresh as the proverbial daisy and berating him for not getting on top of his grading schedule.

His appearance didn’t help either. As attractive as the man was (and he was _unbearably_ attractive, by any standard imaginable; Fai had damn near walked into a pillar upon catching sight of Kurogane clad in an athletic swimsuit and in the school pool for swimming training that first summer, much to the amusement of the chairwoman herself) there was something about the definition of his cheekbones and the clean line of his jaw that suggested an axeblade in his ancestry, for both were sharp and threatening. Not to mention his looming height, or his dark and handsome colouring, or the biceps that were almost as thick as Fai’s own thighs – and didn’t that make him sweat to think about it! And then there were Kurogane's _eyes_ , those damnably intense and _gorgeous_ eyes, the fall of which upon his face felt like Fai had been flayed open and exposed, left vulnerable to the knowing gaze that Kurogane swept across anyone who dared make eye contact. Fai had seen him stare down loitering hoodlums in the staff carpark with arms crossed and a cocked eyebrow, and been utterly amazed to watch hardened delinquents spend an abashed hour picking up their littered trash upon the threat inherent in just that look.

All of this, and the students absolutely _adored him_.

Fai had been stunned to find out that, for the past three years running, Kurogane had claimed the ribbon for ‘Best Teacher’ as voted by the student body at the end of year celebrations – an honour that completely bewildered its bemused recipient, but was completely understandable to his colleagues. Once you got past the sharp and prickly shell, Kurogane’s heart was as warm and soft as a roasted chestnut, and it had been a series of stunned revelations within his first month at Horitsuba Academy that had clued Fai into just how wrong he had been about that terrible first impression.

The first clue had been the occasion of watching him bandage up a badly sprained ankle belonging to a distressed young girl at the summer sports festival. Kurogane had treated her with a no-nonsense level of practical care that was more comforting than pity would have been; not to mention how afterwards he’d set her up in the first aid tent with a folding camp chair and an accompanying folding stool for her leg, an icepack to uphold the principles of R.I.C.E, and a pair of binoculars Kurogane had ‘borrowed’ from the Bird Watching Club to help her keep up with her teammates progress during the main relay event. Watching the gruff and grumpy bastard Fai had thought Kurogane to be reassure a tearful first year student with a firm “Nothing broken - you’ll be fine. Just keep that ankle elevated, and let me know if the pain gets worse,” and an awkward head-pat had cracked Fai’s assumptions right down the middle.

The second had been the day that Fai had come to work genuinely unwell – not with a hangover, but the beginnings of a migraine brought on by sleep deprivation after the fire-alarm in his rundown apartment building had gone off for _hours_ following petty drunken vandalism. It had taken half the night for someone to show up and shut the damn thing off, and Fai had been in no mood whatsoever to face a whole day of chattering teenagers after barely three hours of sleep, let alone the prospect of hunting for a new place to live that had a half-decent landlord. His left eye felt like a spike was slowly being driven into his skull via the socket, and his neck was so stiff that turning his head was unthinkable. Combined with the low mood and anxiety that were the foreboding clouds on the horizon of pain-to-come, Fai had walked in the door to the staff office dreading confrontation with just about anyone, let alone his grumpiest colleague.

Kurogane had taken one look at him and declared that he was escorting Fai to the nurse’s office, prying Fai’s satchel from his numb fingers and stowing it in his pigeonhole above his desk before he could even breathe a word of protest.

With one firm hand clapped to his shoulder, Kurogane had steered him to the accessible elevator and all but marched Fai down the hallway, students scattering in their wake. Fai barely remembered the interaction between Kurogane and the school’s resident nurse, Sumeragi-san, but had a flickering moment of sheer relief when between them both he was divested of indoor shoes and coat, tucked into a sick bed, and laid down with a cold compress. The curtains had been pulled, the lights turned down low, and the last thing Fai had heard before collapsing into sleep had been the low and soothing rumble of Kurogane’s voice as he offered himself up as a volunteer should someone need to drive Fai home using one of the staff cars.

He'd felt awkward as hell coming into work two days later.

Fai was feeling much better and even had a lead on a new apartment nearer the academy itself, but the thought of facing his co-workers after making a spectacle of himself was its own kind of agony. It was something else entirely to reach his desk and realise that the neat stack of paper atop it was the collated worksheets from his second-year chemistry class, helpfully ordered by surname and ready for grading. Kurogane, hunched over the desk next to Fai and almost too big for his dinky office chair, had simply swung around in his seat and said “Good. You look better than you did on Monday,” before standing up to offer Fai a coffee from the staff room as he strode past. Fai had been so stunned he’d said yes before he could even think about turning down the unexpectedly kind offer, and ended up with a cup that was almost too strong – but somehow exactly what he needed to get through the day.

The final nail in the coffin where Kurogane’s ferocious first impression was concerned was the time Fai had volunteered to help the school’s Drama and Performance Club put up their staging in preparation for the cultural festival pantomime.

When Fai walked backstage in the noisy auditorium, he’d expected chaos and laughter, and frantic sewing of handmade costumes as teenagers scurried this way and that carrying props; he had not expected to find Kurogane in paint-stained overalls arguing with the Club Representative – a bombastic young lady by the name of Tomoyo Daidouji – about the exact shade of midnight blue appropriate for the night sky backdrop. Seeing a grown man going toe-to-toe in an argument against a prim and proper student was alarming, and Fai had stepped forward with considerable haste to intervene; only to realise in delighted shock that not only was Tomoyo _winning_ , she’d somehow managed to talk Kurogane into repainting in her preferred colour and even applying silver glitter paint to the stars!

But all his shock at seeing Kurogane grumbling in good-natured defeat as he loaded up his paint tray once more – with B62 Midnight Blue as requested – had been nothing in the face of watching Tomoyo burst into giggles and flick Kurogane with the paint brush. Glee rattled Fai’s ribs as Kurogane blinked in shock, speckled with droplets of dark blue over his already paint-streaked shirt, and then broke into real laughter, the kind Fai had never heard from him before. Oh, Fai had seen Kurogane smirk with satisfaction after making the third-year Mountain Hiking Club do laps of the oval with their fully loaded backpacks when they complained about having to pack all their gear for every afterschool meet-up; he’d heard Kurogane chuckle with sinister intent while plotting out the Impossible Obstacle Course Challenge for the sports festival, complete with netting crawl, warped wall climb and disgustingly deep mud pit.

Hell, Fai had even seen the man almost snort tea out his nose after watching Arisugawa-sensei trip up the stairs with his unfortunately open bento box, wailing as the handmade lunch his ‘sweetie’ had given him scattered all over the ground in devastating and hilarious fashion – but Fai had never heard anything like the true and genuine laughter booming across the room.

Fai had been even more surprised to find out during the course of helping finish up the painting that they were _related_ – Tomoyo didn’t look a thing like her cousin, but apparently the family connection was there through Kurogane’s mother, and came with all the pitfalls of having to handle a teenaged relative while trying to hold down a professional career at that. “She makes my life a living hell when the mood strikes her, the brat,” Kurogane had grumbled while applying the as-commanded glitter to the hand-painted stars decorating his night-time backdrop. “You should see the hell she raises on April Fool’s Day, hmph. But she’s so good at the innocent act, my aunt is convinced she’s a perfect angel, so she never takes me seriously on Parent-Teacher Night.” Almost distracted by the silvery flakes clinging to the dark paint splattered over Kurogane’s hands, Fai had nearly missed the huffing eyeroll as Tomoyo skipped past, pulling a face at her cousin – only to witness the even more childish one Kurogane pulled in return, complete with stuck-out tongue.

“I swear the administration puts her in my class every year just to get a rise from me. Can’t wait until she graduates,” Kurogane had said then, wiping his forehead with his forearm and smearing glitter all over his face, much to his disgust. “Ugh! What is _with_ this sh- _stuff?_ It’s all over the place!” Fai could not have held back the rib-cracking laughter that burst from his chest like a flood from a broken dam for love or money, and had almost ended up with a drastic new dye-job when Kurogane threatened to dunk his head in the paint – a threat Fai was just as delighted to realise was utter, playful nonsense.

Was it any wonder that Fai had looked forward to each new revelation of Kurogane’s true self with a giddy sense of wonder?

He could never have dreamed that someone that with such a bad temper would turn out to be a complete softie at the core. Each grumbled complaint and grumpy mood was just like the rest of Kurogane’s growling bluster: bark without bite, a prickly self-defence to protect his vulnerable underbelly. Once Fai understood he saw it in everything Kurogane did: the self-defence courses he ran every few weeks for the senior students preparing for university; the way he was the first to volunteer to drive the various sports teams to their weekend competitions during finals on the school bus; the understanding that if any student felt unsafe walking home, they only had to ask and Kurogane would arrange to wait somewhere safe with them on campus until their parents could collect them. Even their interactions in the staff room took on a new light: no longer did Fai take Kurogane’s grumpy attitude personally, and he knew now that any muttered complaints from over the divider were merely hot air; pressure vented and harmless noise cultivated as a mask for the considerate and thoughtful teacher that spent every hour of his day trying to give his best to the students he taught.

If you had told Fai on that first day at Horitsuba Academy he would somehow end up befriending the most intimidating man he’d ever met, Fai wouldn’t have believed you. But here they were, and here Fai was, and he could not name the light-headed feeling that swooped over him whenever he caught Kurogane arguing with Mihara-sensei over which Rider of all the Kamens was the best one; or saw him sneakily slipping boxes of new teabags into the pigeonholes of the staff that preferred tea after the school supply ran out in the staff kitchen; or leaning against the back fence listening patiently to the excitedly-chattering six-year-old sibling of one of his students while waiting at the gates for their parents to come and collect them both. If Fai had been more in tune with himself, he might have called it a crush: a sparkling heat that flared in his chest and coloured his laughter and made each day, even the bad or boring or sad ones, easy to get through as long as Kurogane was there.

However, despite being a very intelligent man with wonderful insight as a teacher, Fai had the emotional self-awareness of a wilting houseplant when it came to his own wants and needs. As such, he was completely and utterly ignorant of the fact that he’d started to fall for Kurogane right from the moment they first met. As far as Fai was concerned, he just needed to get better control of himself before the summer swimming competition started up and Kurogane took to coaching again. Fai really couldn’t handle another semester of watching him walk around in his swimsuit in the afternoons.

* * *

Kurogane, of course, was oblivious to Fai’s inner turmoil. As was Fai himself, despite being the ‘inner’ said turmoil belonged to. And so, the air between them continued to crackle with what the unobservant may have called _animosity_ , but the majority of the staff at Horitsuba Academy (and no small percentage of the older students) knew to be _unresolved romantic tension_.

So far, the office betting pool had reached a cool three hundred thousand yen. Ichihara herself had started the collection two days after Fai commenced employment, and after seeing him interact with Kurogane only once.

Office sweepstakes were irrelevant to the current situation, however, and Fai had not the faintest inkling of what awaited him when he waved Kurogane into the classroom, grinning at the delighted chorus of excited _Kurogane-sensei!_ ’s that rang out from his cheerful class. Naturally, it stood to reason that the academy’s favourite teacher would receive a warm welcome – and it made Fai chuckle when Kurogane waved the excited chatter off with a grumpy hand. “Get back to work you lot – I’m here for Flowright-sensei.”

Fai blinked. “Oh? How can I assist you this afternoon, Kuro-tan-sensei?” The diminutive earned Fai yet another adorable wrinkle of Kurogane’s forehead; his irritation at Fai’s inability to pronounce his name correctly the first time they met had spiralled into a running joke where Fai called Kurogane anything but, and Kurogane pretended not to give a damn that he was being called cutesy names. (For those keeping score at home of how many times Kurogane had cracked versus how many times Fai had been unable to keep a straight face, the current tally was 6-2, in Fai’s favour.)

“I need the keys to building three – I’m running the weekly check of the sports equipment in the storeroom.” Of course. Fai had forgotten that Kurogane often stayed behind on Wednesdays as well, and usually had to get the keys back off him to lock up if any of the various sport clubs he was a teacher representative of needed anything out of storage.

“Certainly, Kuro-rin-sensei,” said Fai cheerfully, enjoying how Kurogane’s eyebrow twitched. “Give me just a moment, would you?”

Rummaging around in the satchel he carried around between classes, Fai smiled to himself as Daidouji-san promptly came up to the front of the room to bother Kurogane in the nicest way possible – this time she was teasing him about chocolates or something. Fai wasn’t sure exactly why Kurogane looked so flustered by the time he’d snapped at his beatifically smiling cousin to get back to her seat, but seeming him so riled up was as pleasant as always. It would be a dark day indeed for the future of mankind when Tomoyo couldn’t make her dear older cousin scowl so theatrically, and Fai honestly had to praise her sheer talent.

“Alrighty – here we are, Kuro-pon-sensei. Catch!”

Kurogane caught the keys Fai tossed him one-handed, without looking. A slight scattering of applause burst out over the classroom chatter before fading away, and Kurogane rolled his eyes in disdain. “What are you letting these brats get away with? It’s like watching the tigers make the ringmaster jump through hoops.” That was a particularly creative metaphor for the last hour of the school day, and Fai almost clapped himself.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, Kuro- _kokoro_ -sensei – I thought we might have a little fun with chocolate. All in the name of science, of course.”

Kurogane didn’t look impressed, but then this _was_ the man that drank litres of unsweetened iced tea in summer – and complained if his favourite brand wasn’t available in the cafeteria vending machines, because the only other brand available was _far too sugary_. Kurogane had even admitted once he didn’t even really like ice-cream or cake, which was blasphemy as far as Fai was concerned. But then, Kurogane had never been given the opportunity to taste Yuui’s hazelnut _dacquoise_ , so his blasphemy against good dessert could go unpunished for the time being.

“Of course,” repeated Kurogane dryly, one eyebrow cocked in something like amusement. The expression was a good look on him (most expressions were, with a face like that) and Fai couldn’t help but grin back. It wouldn’t do to just stare at the man like a fool, but it was so hard to _think_ when Kurogane was in a good mood like this: it was as though all Fai’s thoughts became syrupy and slow, leaving him wading through a hazy warmth as he tried to string more than a sentence or two together.

“So, what brings a man like you to my neck of the woods? Never picked you for a scientist, Kuro-run-sensei.” There – a full sentence with a question and everything, and an excuse to lean back lazily against his desk and watch Kurogane speak, all Fai’s kids engaged and doing their work like good little students. That was about the best Fai was going to get at this time of the day and at least three hours since his last coffee.

Kurogane snorted and crossed his arms. It was a habit, something he did unthinkingly at least twenty times a day, and it really did wonderful things to how his shoulders fit the jacket of his academy uniform sports tracksuit. “There’s an indoor volleyball competition for the mixed third-year teams tonight. I’m playing referee, since _apparently_ , I’m the only one in the whole damn school who bothered to read the rule book. That’s why I got these,” he added, letting the building keyring dangle off one finger, keys jangling. “I’ll be staying back to lock up the gymnasium after and make sure the equipment gets put away, so I may as well hang onto them once I run the usual equipment checks.”

“Sounds nice,” said Fai, although in truth he’d never been one for playing sport. Watching sport, maybe; depending on how interesting the game was, but he’d made an effort to spend his high school years hiding in the lab to avoid being forced onto one team or another, and that had carried through to adult dislike. Yuui was obsessed with the European football leagues, but Fai had honestly never found the appeal – most sport was about chasing a ball around or putting said ball in various holes, and there were many things Fai would rather do instead. “Any other plans for tonight?”

The question slipped out blithely, and without any concern for context – which was rather unfortunate; there was a whole lot of context behind its meaning on this day above all others, and quite a bit of subtext too.

Kurogane blinked at him, in a way that Fai had never really seen him do before, and those intense eyes narrowed in something like suspicion. “The volleyball comp is the only thing I have on,” said Kurogane slowly. “Why?”

This time it was Fai’s turn to blink. Why _had_ he asked that? It wasn’t like Kurogane was a party animal. Fai knew for a fact that Kurogane filled his free time (such as it was; the life of a teacher wasn’t exactly rich with leisure time) with volunteering to help Horitsuba Academy’s various sporting teams, visiting his parents who lived in a small town up in the mountains about an hour or two away from Tomoeda, or reading far too much manga.

“No reason,” Fai shrugged. “Still better than my own plans, I guess. I’ve got nothing on my plate but Netflix and chocolate.” And probably a bento from the convenience store on the way back to his apartment somewhere in the middle of that arrangement. (Also wine.) Cooking for himself wasn’t nearly as fun as cooking with his brother, so Fai had been getting a little sloppy when it came to making dinner lately.

Kurogane snorted. “ _Chocolate_. I bet you’ve got plenty of that.”

That remark sounded a little snarkier than the subject deserved. And Kurogane looked oddly flushed, too, come to think of it – a lovely shade of pink colouring his handsome face. “Why, I can spend my lonely nights eating chocolate if I wish,” drawled Fai. “No need to be jealous, Kuro-choco-sensei.”

‘Jealousy’ was probably not the emotion that made Kurogane’s brow furrow, and his mouth thin – which was a shame, since it was such a nice mouth. “No need to rub it in.” And yeah, that was a _definite_ growl in that deep and rumbly voice, the tone of which made Fai’s stomach twist uncomfortably.

_Ouch. What’s got your knickers in a knot, Kuro-chan?_

“No need for that,” blurted Fai, leaning back a little. One hand slipped on his desk, fingertips crumpling up against the edge of cellophane. If talking about chocolate was making dear Kuro-tan grumpy, then maybe chocolate would make him… _un_ grumpy? “If it’s chocolate your heart desires, Kuro-chan-sensei, then I have the answer to your prayers.” Moving quickly, Fai ducked behind his desk and scooped up his chocolate heart with careful fingers. “Here you are – a sweet heart for a sweetheart.”

Sometimes, Fai honestly regretted having a mouth that moved faster than his brain. There was no end to the amount of trouble he’d gotten himself into by opening his lips when he really should have kept them shut, and now seemed like a really good time to not make things worse – except Fai’s hands were already moving, and he was holding his heart out, offering it up to the entirely bewildered man standing before him as though it were a gift.

For the longest moment, Kurogane simply stared. His eyes widened, flicking from Fai’s face to his hands and back again. But before Fai could start to feel more awkward than he already did with slightly melting chocolate slowly smudging his fingertips, Kurogane took a hesitant (?) step forward, reaching out his hand. Gently, and with more care than Fai probably deserved, Kurogane plucked the chocolate heart from Fai’s hands and took it into his own.

Kurogane’s lips parted. His eyes softened, and to Fai’s complete and utter amazement, the faint flush to those dark cheeks bloomed into a bright red burn.

 _Wow. That’s… a good look for you, Kuro-chan._ And it was. Kurogane was a good-looking man (and how!) but it was so different when his normally stern demeanour relaxed into a different expression – and this was one Fai had never seen before, one that knocked stars into his eyes and made his chest flutter, his heartbeat stuttering like butterfly wings. _Damn._

“Um. Thank you,” Kurogane said, still looking down at his hands – oh, the white chocolate icing must have caught his eye. Fai’s handwriting wasn’t the neatest but hopefully it was still legible, even if it was in English. “You… made this?”

Fai grinned. “I’m a man of many talents, Kuro-tan-sensei.”

Kurogane didn’t look entirely convinced, but he hadn’t thrown it on the ground or anything, so Fai was counting that as a win. In fact, to Fai’s delighted disbelief, Kurogane actually lifted the heart up to his mouth and, with the kind of delicacy that Fai had never seen from him, took a small bite.

Considering Kurogane wasn’t exactly a sweet tooth, Fai didn’t actually expect him to eat it – Fai honestly didn’t know what he’d been expecting when he handed the heart over, but what was done was done and so on, and life was too short for regret – but there he was: the corner of his mouth smudged sweetly with just the tiniest bit of dark chocolate and a startled expression on his face as Kurogane licked his lips thoughtfully. Dark eyebrows were raised high, and to Fai’s secret delight, Kurogane scrunched his nose up a little in thought. He was almost unbearably cute when he did that – no man should be that adorable, damn it! And also, Fai _really_ needed to stop looking at Kurogane’s mouth, if only for the sake of his own sanity.

“Actually, this is pretty good.” High praise from a man like Kuro-chan. “Thank you,” he said again, but firmer this time; enough that Fai flushed with pleasure, the heat creeping up his neck. So sue him – it was nice to feel appreciated, and right now that dark gaze on his face definitely felt appreciative.

“You’re welcome.”

Kurogane took another bite, of his own volition, which was a miracle by any other name. This time he looked even just a little bit pleased as he chewed. “I’ll have to return the favour,” said Kurogane, and licked his lips again, catching the last stray smudge of chocolate from the corner of his mouth. The heart in his hands had a healthy-sized bite taken out of it now, teeth marks breaking off part of the cat’s ear and most of the word _Be_ , leaving _My Valentine_ and the dog’s face intact. “I might take this home.”

If Fai had been smart, now would have been the time to offer Kurogane some cellophane to wrap it in, but the logical part of his brain was asleep at the wheel: the best he managed was a slightly-gormless grin and a breathless “Haha.” Return the favour? What the hell did _that_ mean? Regardless, Kurogane was _smiling_ at him now, mouth quirked at the corner with just a hint of teeth showing and his lip curling up gently, and Fai’s resident butterflies fluttered in urgent palpitation beneath his ribcage. _Huh_ , thought Fai vaguely. _I think my face is going numb. Also, I think I can taste copper_. It was probably nothing. Either that, or he was having a heart attack.

The thump-and-clattering sound of a rather large bag of chocolate buds falling off a bench top made Fai startle, almost jumping as he snapped his gaze away from Kurogane – and onto a sheepish looking Syaoran, who had just (as the noise suggested) knocked a rather large bag of chocolate buds off his work bench and onto the floor. Flushing guiltily, Syaoran mumbled an apology and bent down quickly to start picking up the literal pieces scattered across the linoleum, and Fai sighed as he scanned the room for any other mishaps, relieved to find none. Spilled chocolate wasn’t so bad, it could have been broken glass…

The thought trailed off into nothing as Fai realised, with dull horror, that damn near every other pair of eyes was fixed to him and Kurogane, his students apparently mesmerised by their teacher’s conversation at the front of the room.

“What?” he croaked, and coughed to clear his throat. “Are you all finished already?” Sakura, at least, had the good grace to look embarrassed, but Tomoyo and several others were smiling up at him cheekily, looking completely unabashed.

“I better head off,” said Kurogane slowly, apparently just as bewildered as Fai was by their apparent audience. Fai turned back in time to see broad shoulders straighten a little, the flush on Kurogane’s face fading as he spoke. “I’ll see you later.” He waved the hand not holding Fai’s chocolate, and strode out the door with the same speed he’d come in with – completely unbothered by the waves and calls of several kids as he left. Fai, distracted by the merry jingle of the keys in Kurogane’s tracksuit pocket (and absolutely not how well Kurogane filled said tracksuit pants) had to shake himself out of his stupor to wave a goodbye.

Resisting the urge to slap his own face, Fai turned back to the brats he’d apparently dedicated his life to teaching. He was absolutely _not_ watching Kurogane walk down the hall from the corner of his eye, no sir, and he definitely didn’t feel his chest squeeze with delight as he caught a glimpse of Kurogane taking another bite of his chocolate. Nope, completely focused on teaching, that was Fai, and he certainly _wasn’t_ sweating like a pig under the scrutiny of twenty pairs of teenage eyes either – it was just warm in here, that was all. Everyone knew the labs had less ventilation than the other parts of campus!

Fai huffed a breath, hands on his hips. “Right. There should be some properly tempered and moulded chocolate ready to be presented for my opinion now shouldn’t there? Any brave souls want to come on up to my desk?” A chorus of worried murmurs broke out as his beloved students seemed to realise Fai wasn’t playing games, and at least one student at the back of the room froze with a handful of chocolate halfway to their mouth. “In case you have forgotten, I am your _teacher_ , dear children – I _will_ be grading you on this.”

“I’ll go first,” volunteered Tomoyo, cheeky grin replaced by her normal, sweetly smiling expression. “Sakura-chan and I have finished our hearts.”

“That’s a start,” sighed Fai, and slumped back in his chair. At least someone was taking him seriously. Probably. “Come on over, Tomoyo-chan – and you too, Sakura-chan.” Hopefully the rest of the lesson would wind up easily enough. Fai had a date with the _Nailed It!_ holiday special, a bottle of red and the leftover chocolate buds – assuming dear Syaoran-kun didn’t spill any more on the floor in his nervousness. It wasn’t like he had his Valentine’s heart to munch on tonight, so he’d have to make do –

A chill shot down Fai’s spine, and he jolted upright in his seat. He didn’t have his heart – he’d given it to _Kurogane_. A chocolate heart, emblazoned with _Be My Valentine_ , and Fai had given it to quite possibly the worst possible recipient out of anyone on the whole damn campus.

_Oh, fuck. Why did I do that?! _

Hopefully Kurogane dismissed it as a playful gift in the spirit of the season, and not a heartfelt declaration of feelings. Which is wasn’t, definitely not. Friends gave friends chocolate all the time on Valentine’s day, right? Right? There’d be no deeper meaning there, at least not one Fai had intended with knowledge aforethought, and, _hell_. If Kurogane thought Fai was hitting on him, he’d never speak to him again – except. Except he kind of _had_ , didn’t he? He’d waved goodbye and everything, and he hadn’t seemed bothered munching on his new chocolate treat as he walked away, so Fai was in the clear. Probably.

_Ugh. Please God, drown me in melted chocolate and put me out of my misery – it would be such a kinder way to die than this._

“Flowright-sensei?”

“Hm, what? Oh, Tomoyo-chan. I’m so sorry, I lost myself in thought for a little bit there – I must need more coffee.” And to pay attention to his surroundings and the children in his care better, that was for sure. “Let’s have a look, shall we?

The end of the school day could not come fast enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked _reading_ about Fai giving Kurogane his chocolate heart, then feast your eyes on [THIS](https://arisprite.tumblr.com/post/626845646245314560/untitled-from-a-scene-from-forget-love-id)!
> 
> I am so fortunate that the amazingly talented arisprite crafted such a beautiful picture - please go show them some love on tumblr at arisprite.tumblr.com, and on twitter @arispite!


	2. White Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I see,” said Fai. This was a lie. Fai did not see. Fai had no fucking clue what White Day was supposed to be, and at this point, he was too scared to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fai: my giving chocolate to Kurogane on Valentine's Day had no effect on our personal relationship whatsoever
> 
> Kurogane: are you sure about that?

March came to Horitsuba Academy with a burst of unseasonably cold weather, enough to chill the bones and make teeth chatter.

Snow lingered in the pine-capped mountains beyond Tomoeda longer than it ever had before, and brought extra tourist interest to the town – the pop-up ice-skating rink at the park was more popular than ever. The wind cut through Fai’s labcoat as though it wasn’t there, leaving him with an almost perpetual shiver when he was outside, and he was spending a significant fraction of his weekly budget on those crackly plastic pocket hand-warmers. But even beyond the crisp chill and crack of ice in the air, there was a tension crackling amongst the students of the Academy in a way that Fai Flowright could not relate to the cool atmosphere: a sense of bubbling excitement, like the volcanic veins that hide beneath dark earth, ready to burst forth in an explosion of steam and heat with the smallest provocation.

And it was not only the _children_ that were acting oddly, either. Several of his colleagues were humming with enough good cheer to ignore the current cold snap, their general jollity of a kind better suited to the lead up to Christmas. It couldn’t have been the onset of Spring making them so happy, either – the current forecasts predicted the chilling trend would continue on for several weeks at least! Not to mention the chairwoman herself: Yuuko-san kept winking in a particularly sultry manner every time she saw Fai, as though the pair of them were co-conspirators in some kind of sexy secret mission, and Fai had no idea what _that_ was all about.

It wasn’t just her. Arisugawa-sensei had taken to sighing dramatically and wittering on about “young love” of late, to Fai’s complete and utter confusion. Valentine’s Day had been nearly a month ago, and yet the man seemed obsessed with the love lives of those around him. Obviously, marriage was treating him well and bringing romance to mind, but Fai’s latest love affair had been with the new cheesy fried chicken sold at the convenience store around the corner from his apartment building, so he had nothing to contribute to the conversation. The constant drilling for _details, Fai-san! Don’t go holding out on us!_ was driving Fai more than slightly batty, and he was ready to snap if he was asked one more time when the last date he’d gone on had been.

Kurogane, at least, was a bastion of common sense amongst the love-mad; he shut down anyone who tried to broach the topic of romance with his signature Murderous Glare™ and an absolute refusal to engage that Fai found truly impressive, meaning that Fai took every chance to escape into Kurogane’s company whenever he could in an attempt to dodge Arisugawa-sensei’s persistent interrogations. Fortunately, their lunch periods aligned on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, so Fai had taken to seeking refuge in the physical education department’s staff annex – a tiny little room by the Gymnasium in building three. It was just barely large enough for two desks, two chairs and an old-fashioned tea kettle, but it was so peaceful compared to the chaos of the staff room that Fai could have cried from relief.

Fai had been spending a lot of time in Kurogane’s company of late, which an external observer could suppose was only fair; since Fai finally moved closer to campus last year, sheer coincidence resulted in him living in the same apartment building as Kurogane, and on the same floor no less! But there was _coincidence_ and there was deliberately waking up half an hour early to walk to campus in Kurogane’s company, and Fai was somehow achieving the latter most days a week despite it being colder than the proverbial witch’s teat outside. Not to mention walking home with him on those few days Kurogane wasn’t engaged in club activities. Over the past few weeks, Fai had spent more time with the man than ever before, and not just in the sense of socialising with a coworker: it felt like their friendship was deepening in a way Fai normally struggled with, but Kurogane made so _easy_.

Kurogane’s wickedly dry sense of humour certainly helped, but it was that deep vein of kindness beneath the prickly shell more than anything else that left Fai feeling warmer than the weather should allow.

If Kurogane wasn’t holding the door open for him while Fai struggled inside with several reams of hexagonal graph paper, he was pulling out Fai’s chair and clearing space from his desk so Fai could put it down without being asked. Not to mention the mysteriously appearing cans of Fai’s favourite hot chocolate found in his pigeonhole those few mornings Fai _didn’t_ manage to roll out of bed early enough to walk in with Kurogane – the particular brand that couldn’t be found in any of the campus vending machines, but was somehow always at the perfect temperature by the time Fai took his seat at his desk. And speaking of his desk, last Tuesday Kurogane had helped Fai finally fix the wobbly desk leg that had been driving him up the wall for weeks, with nothing more than a wedge of cardboard and a thumbtack.

Kurogane always had a spare highlighter when asked. Kurogane had a set of chopsticks (and also a fork, if needed) for Fai in his pigeonhole for whenever Fai inevitably left his at home… or forget to collect them from the cafeteria when he bought lunch instead of making it himself. And on those days where Fai _did_ remember his cutlery, Kurogane would split the cheap disposable chopsticks perfectly down the middle every time for him, which Fai still did not have the knack for. Hell, Kurogane even did it without being prompted, holding out his hand expectantly whenever Fai came in with curry udon for lunch. And he did all of the above with the minimum of grouchy commentary!

It was as though someone had cranked his dial up from ‘Bark and Snark’ to ‘Tall Grumpy and Charming’ and Fai had _no idea_ what provoked it… or what he was supposed to do with the warm flutter in his chest that Kurogane was entirely responsible for.

* * *

The morning of Wednesday the 14th of March bloomed bright and cold and clear, and Fai was seriously considering buying a cheap pair of sunglasses to combat the glare.

It was cold enough for the snow that fell over the weekend to still be banked up on the sides of the road in frozen piles, and Fai’s breath was frosting in plumes as he trudged towards campus. Kurogane had been conspicuously absent that morning, but that was to be expected; he’d said as much the night before. Fai had run into him in the laundry room sometime around eleven, Kurogane leaning against a dryer and scowling down at stack of exam papers while his reading glasses slipped slowly down his nose, and the dryer had been chugging away with enough force that Fai honestly had no idea how he was keeping the marks from his red pen so neat.

“I gotta go in early tomorrow,” Kurogane had sighed, and rubbed at the red marks his glasses left across the bridge of his nose. “Something to do with the prospective parents of new students the chairwoman is dragging around campus this week.” Kurogane had said _chairwoman_ with the same inflection another man might say _that bastard_ , but Fai knew it was just the way dear Kuro-tan showed affection – if he really didn’t like her, he wouldn’t have bothered coming in early at all.

Fai, being a reasonable and understanding person, had immediately pouted and draped himself over his chosen washer with a despairing wail (and a widening grin he couldn’t quite stifle). “Ah! Kuro-snow-sensei is abandoning me to the wintery cold! I’m going to lose myself in the snowdrifts and they’ll have to send a whole team of search dogs to find me!”

Kurogane had snorted at him then, pen twitching in his fingers as though he was barely an away inch from drawing a big red cross right over Fai’s face. “Says the man who only walks with me to use me as a windbreak.”

Fai had fallen into laughter at that – and almost slid off his washer as he did so – because, well, Kurogane _did_ make a very good windbreak: he was taller than Fai, with broader shoulders and a much more solid frame (it was all that rippling muscle, probably) filling out his winter coat, and if Fai just so happened to always walk behind Kurogane when they climbed up the steps to the pedestrian bridge over the highway, he was simply taking advantage of beneficial situation.

Still, windbreaks aside, it was a bit lonelier walking by himself, even with the scatter of early students to greet along the way. Fai didn’t make friends easily, for all he was sociable and outgoing; it had always been that way, ever since he and Yuui were children. It was hard for him to connect beyond the superficial, harder to find understanding for his strange sense of humour and disregard for personal space, not to mention his tendency to speak with the sharp side of his tongue if someone managed to get under his skin – and yet Kurogane had taken in all of Fai’s flaws and rolled his eyes as if to say _that all you got?_

To have someone look him in the eye and know the kind of person he was and still not turn away…

It was refreshing. It was _wonderful_. It was one of the _many_ reasons that Fai was terrified of his own feelings, to the point where he could barely acknowledge them – what would he do if some aspect of his personality scared Kurogane off?

A delighted shriek cut Fai’s thoughts loose from their depressing turn as he approached the front gates, and he found a smile in spite of himself at the sight of several clusters of teenage girls chattering happily as they wandered up the front path. Evidently, whatever excitement had been building up over the past few weeks was approaching boiling point, if the overflow of bubbling laughter was anything to go by; whatever it was that had the girls of Horitsuba excited, Fai was sure he was going to find out shortly.

“Flowright-sensei! Good morning!”

“Hm?” Fai paused, turning about to see a cheerful Tomoyo waving in his direction. “Good morning, Tomoyo-chan. You’re at school early.” Tomoyo, Fai knew, liked to walk to school with Sakura – though the latter was nowhere in sight.

“I needed to come in early today,” said Tomoyo sweetly, taking a few quick steps towards Fai to walk beside him. “I have a lot of gifts to give out, you see?” And to Fai’s amazement, she was overloaded with small giftbags bundled up together in a wicker basket. Its handle was covered in white ribbons and white roses, of all things, and Tomoyo beamed up at him as she held it safely in her arms.

“That does look very heavy,” was Fai’s first comment. Part of him was wondering if he should offer to carry it for her, but the bright smile on Tomoyo’s face suggested she was happy with her armful, regardless of its weight. “What on earth are those all for, Tomoyo-chan?” It couldn’t have been Tomoyo’s birthday – that wasn’t until September, if Fai remembered correctly. And besides, all the little gifts had ribbons and tags, printed neatly with names of various young ladies in second and third year – these gifts were clearly for other students. But why would Tomoyo be giving out presents in the first place?

Tomoyo blinked at him, her smile fading just a little and her expression startled. “It’s… for all the girls who gave me _choco-giri_ on Valentine’s Day,” she said slowly, as though waiting for Fai to react. And Fai must have looked as confused as he felt, because her smile disappeared completely as she said “Flowright-sensei – do you not know what _choco-giri_ is?”

 _I think the answer to that is an obvious ‘no’,_ thought Fai.

“Oh my,” said Tomoyo, sounding mournful. “That explains so much…” Before Fai could open his mouth to defend himself, Tomoyo shuffled her basket higher in her arms and smiled up at him once more. “ _Choco-giri_ is like… how do I explain this? It’s like obligatory chocolate. A small gift of chocolate you give to your classmates or colleagues because it’s expected of you. Valentine’s Day is a day that girls give chocolates to the people they care about, but it’s tradition to also give chocolate to your friends and classmates so they don’t feel left out.” That seemed needlessly complicated to Fai, but possibly explained why there had been so much chocolate being given out on the day in question.

It still didn’t explain why there were so many gifts in Tomoyo’s goodie basket now, either. Valentine’s Day had been a month ago. (A month to the day, exactly, in fact.)

“It used to be only girls that gave chocolates to boys on Valentine’s Day,” continued Tomoyo, murmuring a polite _thank you_ as Fai held open the doors to the locker rooms for her to step through. “But these days anyone can give chocolates to anyone they think is important.”

It _had_ been mostly girls that Fai had noticed handing out chocolate treats on the day in question, but he hadn’t given it much thought to see a handful of boys with chocolates too. He’d witnessed Kimihiro being swarmed by his classmates for a serving of the cute miniature chocolate cakes he’d brought into homeroom, and put it down to the young man’s prodigious talent for baking. There’d never been an occasion that Fai had seen where Kimihiro’s cooking had gone uneaten once brought into school – even Shizuka, picky eater of the bunch, had tucked into his extra-large serving with gusto, bluntly demanding more once he’d finished.

“ _Honmei-choco_ is the opposite.” Tomoyo paused in front of her locker, shifting her basket onto her hip for leverage to open it one-handed. “Those are chocolates with meaning – love chocolates! You only give _honmei-choco_ to the one person you have feelings for.”

“Feelings?” parroted Fai.

“ _Feelings_ ,” sighed Tomoyo happily, sparkles in her eyes. “Like the chocolates Sakura-chan gave Syaoran-kun!” _That_ had been a spectacle to witness, complete with stammering and stuttering. Both parties had blushed so severely Fai had honestly wondered if he needed to fetch a fire extinguisher before they set the smoke alarms off.

“The chocolates I was given on Valentine’s Day were _choco-giri_ ,” said Tomoyo, fishing out her indoor shoes. “Some of the girls in my class, the Choir Club, and even the Drama and Performance Club were kind enough to give me chocolates as a token of friendship, or of admiration – _kohai_ sometimes give chocolates to their _senpai_ as a ‘thank you’ for their support. Even Sakura-chan gave me chocolate, when everyone knew she was going to give _honmei-choco_ to Syaoran-kun.”

Okay, so there were apparently distinctions between types of chocolate given, which seemed unnecessarily complicated in Fai’s humble opinion. _What’s wrong with just giving a box of chocolates to the person you fancy?_ Valentine’s Day had never had such a complex net of social obligation and romantic implication in his youth. Still, love chocolates and obligatory chocolates aside, none of that explained why Tomoyo was laden down with gifts. “But why are you giving out chocolates _today_ , Tomoyo-chan?”

Tomoyo blinked, looking down at the basket. “Oh! No, these aren’t _chocolates_ – these are return gifts for the girls who gave _me_ chocolates. That’s what today is all about – it’s White Day.” Clearly expecting Fai to know what on earth she was talking about, Tomoyo beamed up at him once more.

“I see,” said Fai. This was a lie. Fai did not see. Fai had no fucking clue what White Day was supposed to be, and at this point, he was too scared to ask.

“I really have to get going to give these out,” finished Tomoyo cheerfully, sounding as though she had completed her explanation. Despite the fact Fai was even more confused than ever. “I’ve got to get these on everyone’s desks, and then I have to go to the Choir club room, and then go to the Auditorium–”

“Good luck,” said Fai, and genuinely meant it; the sheer amount of tiny little presents in her basket filled it from brim to brim. Tomoyo would be running around all morning if she meant to deliver them all before homeroom.

“I’ll see you in class, Flowright-sensei!” said Tomoyo, waving as Fai moved towards the teacher’s shoe lockers. “And I think you’re really going to enjoy today too!”

“I enjoy every day I’m here at Horitsuba Academy,” laughed Fai, and while he genuinely meant it, he had to admit some days made more sense than others. At least he was never bored – that was probably the best thing about being a teacher. That and the nourishing of aspiring young minds, of course.

He'd never pictured a career in education, and the path to get here had been rocky, but Fai couldn’t think of anything else he would rather do with his life at this point.

His earlier confusion forgotten, Fai hummed cheerfully to himself as he stowed his satchel in the staff room and gathered up what he needed for homeroom. Kurogane was still nowhere in sight, but then he had said he was helping the chairwoman; Kurogane would be lucky to escape before first period if Ichihara-san had him in her clutches. Perhaps when they met later Fai could ask what Kurogane had been roped into – assuming Fai survived his supervision shift in the cafeteria today. If ‘White Day’ was making the kids excited, then it would be utter bedlam at lunchtime.

The sound of an argument coming from the classroom Fai held homeroom in suggested the bedlam had started already.

_“–and I told you, I don’t care. They’re mine, I’m eating them, you can’t stop me.”_

That was definitely Kimihiro at his snooty best, berating someone Fai couldn’t see – though judging from the tone of voice, it was probably Shizuka. It was always Shizuka, with Kimihiro: the two of them were locked in some kind of belligerent cycle of teenage aggression and unresolved romantic tension, seesawing backwards and forwards without end.

 _Though they have been getting on a bit better since Valentine’s_ , mused Fai, opening the door with a cheerful greeting and startling Kimihiro out of his tirade.

“Now, now – it’s too early in the day to be fighting, boys,” laughed Fai as he walked in. “Did you skip breakfast this morning, Kimihiro-kun? Is that why you’re so grumpy, hmm?”

To his credit, Kimihiro had the grace to blush. And it looked like Fai was bang on the money with skipping breakfast, because Kimihiro was halfway through eating a biscuit… or at least a somewhat chargrilled attempt at a biscuit, studded with what looked like burnt marshmallows. Biscuits that Kimihiro could not have made, then. Fai had not seen a cook with more natural talent since his own dear brother.

“Ah – good morning, Flowright-sensei.”

Shizuka only nodded, but that was par for the course with Shizuka – blood from a stone came easier than words from Shizuka. And at any rate, he looked like he had his hands full, a cheap plastic container full of the burnt biscuits in question on his desk and between hands covered in bandaids.

Quite a lot of bandaids, in fact. Fai frowned. “What did you _do_ to your hands, Shizuka-kun?”

“He burnt them!” blurted Kimihiro, warming up to a fine temper as he folded his arms. Fai didn’t have a chance to interject before Kimihiro was off again, leaning back against Shizuka’s desk with bright, angry eyes and hands waving as he ranted. “He wasn’t careful while he was baking – I _told_ him he should have asked me to help!”

“You couldn’t have helped me when I was making something for you,” said Shizuka, sounding quietly exasperated.

 _Oho? A gift, then._ There was no one else that Fai could picture Shizuka making such an effort for than Kimihiro. _A shame they didn’t turn out well._ Though Kimihiro didn’t seem to mind, judging by the half-eaten one in his hand, scattering crumbs as he moved.

“Well, the next time you should ask me anyway,” said Kimihiro stubbornly. He took another bite, grimacing slightly. “They’ll turn out better with my help.”

“You don’t have to eat them,” said Shizuka, sounding even quieter than before.

 _Ah. They definitely were a gift._ It was strange to see the normally taciturn Shizuka so visibly upset – well, for a given definition of visible, at least – but Fai understood: making an effort to impress someone and having it turn out badly could be demoralising at best, and heartbreaking at worst.

“And I told you before, I don’t _care_ if they’re not perfect, you made them for me. That makes them mine, and I’m eating them!” This declaration was punctuated with Kimihiro taking another bite of a blackened biscuit, and a flicker of something close to happiness dawning on Shizuka’s face.

 _That was heartwarming._ Well. Maybe things would turn out for the best regardless of Shizuka’s cooking skills.

The rest of homeroom itself was almost boring compared to that early morning drama, and Fai coasted through it with a smile as he always did, noting to his own satisfaction that Kimihiro was still chomping away on Shizuka’s biscuits. Perhaps his pleasure with the budding romance blooming in the back corner of the room was a little obvious, but Fai couldn’t hold himself to blame, especially since there were a few more speculative and approving glances flitting around the other members of his class. It seemed Fai wasn’t the only one hoping for a positive outcome of this potential love story.

A point that was only proven when Tomoyo walked past him after the bell with Sakura at her side, her basket looking quite a bit emptier, but still laden with presents.

“I’m so glad Watanuki-kun accepted Doumeki-kun’s White Day gift!” gushed Sakura, and Fai could practically see the pink aura of a true romantic floating around her as she sighed. “I was so worried he would turn Doumeki-kun down, being so shy, but it looks like it went well!”

That… sounded more significant than a gift of homemade biscuits had seemed to Fai.

“I wonder if they’re dating now,” whispered Tomoyo, in the kind of full-voiced and dramatic whisper all teenage girls seemed to specialise in – the kind that carried clearly over the gossip of her peers. “I should hope so – then Sakura-chan and Syaoran-kun could go on a double date with Watanuki-kun and Doumeki-kun!”

Fai was left momentarily stunned. Apparently, this ‘White Day’ business was a mirror for Valentine’s Day, and a lot more serious than he’d first thought, if a couple _dating_ was the natural conclusion of exchanging gifts.

“ _Uwaahh!_ Tomoyo-chan, don’t _say_ such things – Syaoran-kun and are aren’t _d-dating!_ ”

Fai had to snort at that. _Really? Tell that to everyone else that knows you, Sakura-chan. You’d be more believable if you weren’t red as a beet right now._

Tomoyo’s bubbling laughter suggested she _also_ didn’t believe Sakura’s protests for a hot second, and she was still teasing poor Sakura even as the pair disappeared down the hallway. Fai wasn’t following their conversation any further, however. He had a lot to think about.

If a Valentine’s Day gift of chocolate – or at least _honmei-choco_ , from what Tomoyo had explained before – could be construed a confession of feelings, then it seemed like a White Day gift was a declaration of reciprocation. It wasn’t something Fai had ever heard of, but then Valentine’s Day in Japan was already so different to everything he’d grown up knowing of the day that it wouldn’t surprise him at all.

Whichever card-company marketing executive came up with the idea of a matching holiday to one of the biggest consumer-purchasing events of the year must have been _raking_ in the cash! Or the yen, in this case.

 _Just when I think I know everything about this place, I learn something new,_ mused Fai, shaking his head gently as he collected his various accoutrements and followed the children out the door. His mind was already full of equations and class plans, notable only in the sense that not once did he spare a thought for how his own gift of chocolate given on Valentine’s Day might have been received – and whether there was a declaration of reciprocation coming _his_ way.

* * *

By the time Fai was due for his shift in the cafeteria, he’d witnessed at least four more gift exchanges: two in class, one in the hallway, and another in the courtyard that ended in heartbreak. Not to mention all the others he’d walked past, dodged around, and actually spun on the spot mid-step to avoid seeing ( _especially_ once the waterworks started – yeowch!).

It was almost too much to hope that the lunch period would be quiet, and it most definitely wasn’t – the morning excitement had yet to die down, especially with various young Casanovas delivering gifts (or not) to their would-be Romeos.

(It was… entirely possible Fai was mixing his Romantics up a little. He was a chemist, not a literature major.)

As lovely as it was to see the young buds of romance in bloom, Fai was starting to feel a little lacking for adult company. It wasn’t an unusual thing for a teacher to feel – at least most of his students were, essentially, smaller adults with most of the faculties thereof; Fai had done exactly one relief stint as a kindergarten teacher’s assistant for a day and damn near needed to lie down for a nap when the rugrats did – but normally Fai had more of a chance to chat with his colleagues throughout the day.

If by colleagues, Fai meant Kurogane. And he did. (He was still avoiding Arisugawa-sensei as much as possible.)

Fai had seen not a _whisker_ of him all morning. Well, Fai normally saw no whiskers anyway because that very masculine jawline was always cleanshaven, but that was beside the point: Fai hadn’t seen Kurogane since bidding him goodnight in the laundry room, and even on a campus as large as Horitsuba Academy, that was ridiculous! And yes, Kurogane had said the chairwoman had needed him for something, and _yes_ , Ichihara-san was most definitely a hard task-master, but there was a line and Kurogane’s continued absence was approaching it.

It… it couldn’t be that Kurogane was avoiding him?

 _No, not likely._ Fai dismissed the thought before it could take root. If Kurogane was pissed at him, he most definitely would have told him. Like the time Fai borrowed – that is to say, “borrowed” – Kurogane’s favourite mechanical pencil (the one with the little dragon eraser topper) and then accidentally dropped it down the gap between the train and the platform that time he’d had to run into the city proper. It had taken Fai going all the way back to the Animate in downtown Tomoeda to pick up the special limited edition of _Weekly Mangayan_ and three bottles of that weird iced tea Kurogane liked to earn his way back into his good books for _that_ one. And Kurogane _still_ glared whenever Fai’s hands got too close to his pencil cup!

No, if Kurogane had his knickers in a knot over something Fai had done, Fai would already know about it. Kurogane wasn’t the kind to prevaricate over hurt feelings, and certainly his blunt manner straddled the line between refreshing and, well, _blunt_. But Fai could appreciate a bit of bluntness in a man – especially one like Kurogane, who had just so very many sharp edges besides. (Like his jaw, or the breadth of his shoulders, or the sheer cutting intensity of those amazing eyes.) Kurogane wouldn’t avoid him in some misguided means of punishment over a slight, real or imagined – which led to the unfortunate conclusion that dear Kuro-chan really was just that busy.

A high-pitched squeal of delight cut across the general murmur of the cafeteria and Fai winced, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off the oncoming headache. Yes, young love as sweet as bluebirds in spring, et cetera, but there were limits. Fai would be the first to admit that his patience was thinning a little today, and not just because he was missing his usual company. _Shame Kuro-chan isn’t about the place. Could use a bit of grumpiness to cut through the fluffy atmosphere…_

Halfway through a sigh, Fai just about jumped out of his skin at the sudden and welcome sound of the grumpy voice to his left.

“ _Tch_. Didn’t think you had babysitting duty today.”

“I swapped with Mihara-sensei,” said Fai, not at all breathlessly, and if his heart betrayed him by skipping a beat when he turned to catch Kurogane’s knowing smirk as Horitsuba Academy’s most popular physical education teacher walked towards him, well, Fai would and could deny it until he was blue in the face if he even bothered to acknowledge it at all. “What brings you to our fine dining establishment on this lovely day, Kuro-tan-sensei?”

“Not the food, that’s for sure,” muttered Kurogane, jacket draped loose over one arm as he crossed them. For someone with a voracious appetite – all that physical education, probably – he sure was scathing of any meals but those he made himself. To be fair, Fai had sampled (i.e. stolen) some of Kurogane’s bento before and it had been damn delicious; the nicest school cafeteria in the world couldn’t compete with a homemade meal. “I was looking for you earlier, but apparently you haven’t been back to the Bull Pen today. Arisugawa?”

Fai sighed, properly this time. “Arisugawa-sensei, yes. I’m not sure how much more obvious I can be without stapling a sign that says _I don’t want to talk about my love life_ to the back of my chair.”

Fai expected a chuckle at that and was slightly surprised not to receive one – instead, Kurogane looked pensive, adjusting the folds of his jacket as he fixed Fai with a gaze several degrees more intense than usual. It was unnerving, if unnerving was the word for the prickly sensation that raced up Fai’s spine and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“Yeah,” said Kurogane, frowning.

“Not that I _have_ a love life,” blurted Fai, because that look on Kurogane’s face made him nervous, and a nervous Fai was one that ran his mouth. “I mean. I’m not exactly _boyfriend_ material, you know? At least, that was the feedback from my last relationship, ha!” Fai was babbling now, which was absolutely what one wanted to do when talking to attractive men who were looking one directly in the eye with a stare that promised to bore directly into one’s soul. Fai’s soul, such as it was, nearly curled up and died when he heard himself blather “Yuui’s the one that all the nice girls and boys wanted to date; I was the poor second choice with bad hair and a habit of drinking wine straight from the bottle, haha!”

_Well, fuck. Why don’t we imply that we’re an alcoholic with chronic bedhead, hm? I’m sure that will only endear us further in Kuro-chan’s heart._

“I prefer whiskey,” said Kurogane flatly, and Fai honestly had to wonder how on earth he was staying so cool when Fai was sweating like a sinner in church. _Probably helps not wearing the jacket over his shirt and – no, that is not an excuse to ogle his biceps._ It was perhaps too late in that regard, especially as Kurogane uncrossed and crossed his arms again, drawing attention to said flexing muscle, though most definitely unintentionally. _Wow. I don’t think I could even wrap my hand around – focus, Fai. Now is not the time._

“How did everything go with our esteemed chairwoman?” said Fai, instead of what he really wanted to ask. Asking one’s colleague if one could just reach out and gently squeeze their deliciously muscular arm, just a little, was most definitely _not_ appropriate behaviour in the workplace. Or any other place for that matter.

This time Kurogane looked startled at the change of subject, eyebrows jumping up and eyes widening. “Hm? Oh, _that_. Fine.” And that was a dismissive grunt if ever there was one. Fai couldn’t blame him – Ichihara-san was a lovely woman with a kind heart (buried somewhere in her back garden, probably) but she was definitely a hard task-master.

“Well. That’s good then.” Amazing how he could be longing to see Kurogane all day and then so quickly run out of things to say once he found him. Though that was hardly Kuro-chan’s fault – Fai was the one whose thoughts kept lurching drunkenly down inappropriate pathways, nothing of which he could say out loud; no doubt Kurogane was simply being his taciturn self, completely oblivious to Fai’s ogling. Which was a good thing, truly. If Kurogane had even an inkling of how Fai thought about him, then Fai would lose the closest friend he’d had in – well, the closest friend he’d ever had. And that hurt to even think about.

“Look,” said Kurogane, and the frustration in his tone dragged Fai out of his pitying thoughts before they could spiral. “I’m not here to talk about the chairwoman.”

“Hm? Then what’s on your mind, Kuro-tan-sensei?” Something was, if the furrow of his brow could be trusted; and it generally could when it came to Kurogane. A lesser man would wear his heart on his sleeve, but Kurogane’s heart (proud and fierce and wonderfully kind) was there for all to see in his eyes.

“I…” Kurogane huffed a breath and stood straighter, the slouch to his shoulders pulling away as he drew himself up to his full height. Fai, for once, could not think of a thing to say as he watched the breadth of those firm shoulders swell and straighten, a stiff nervousness settling over Kurogane like an ill-fitting jacket. Kurogane was not the kind of man that should ever be nervous about anything, but here he was, and the flush creeping steadily up his neck and blushing warmth across his lovely face caught Fai’s tongue as surely as any cat could.

“I said I’d return the favour, didn’t I?” said Kurogane, the rustle of paper undercutting the quiet tone of his voice. The jacket slumped over Kurogane’s arm shifted beneath the touch of his hand, and Kurogane withdrew a bundle wrapped in paper – no, not a bundle but a bag made of plain white paper, twisted handles folded down to conceal its contents. In Kurogane’s hands it looked small, but really it wasn’t, and when Kurogane looked up, the tension in his shoulders and the flush to his face all made sudden and stunning sense.

It was a gift.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want it,” said Kurogane flatly, but thrust the crumpled bundle forward at Fai all the same. The noise that peeped through Fai’s shocked and slack mouth could only be called a squeak: this was a gift from Kurogane for Fai – something he could not have predicted with a million years of prep time. It felt like Fai was failing a test he had no idea was coming, and the heat that burst over his face as he stared up at a nervous and frowning Kurogane only made it so much worse. He’d always been a sympathetic blusher, but this was beyond empathy; Fai’s heart skipped and stuttered like a butterfly in giddy flight.

“I’ll take it,” Fai blurted, stepping forward with more speed than good manners. Shaking hands closed over the papery parcel Kurogane held out to him, and Fai was stunned to watch his fingers tremble when they just barely brushed Kurogane’s own. It felt like he was watching his own body from a distance, one instance removed from the impossible situation unfolding… except it could hardly be called impossible if it was happening here and now, could it? Fai wasn’t thinking about their accidental audience – was, in fact, blissfully indifferent to its existence in this moment as everything around him faded into unimportance – and with a smile that wobbled helplessly, Fai took the bag from Kurogane’s waiting hands, oblivious to the dozens of students watching his actions with barely restrained glee.

“Thank you,” said Fai, and the clutch of the parcel closer came with a rustle of paper. It was soft and surprisingly heavy, its plush expanse giving gently beneath the pressure of his clinging fingers. Fai couldn’t help but squeeze it, and the mystery of its contents sent a thrill zipping down his spine. Forget butterflies, whatever was in Fai’s chest now had claws, kneading at his pounding heart with the casual cruelty of a kitten at play: he was so happy it _hurt_.

The scowl that creased Kurogane’s face smoothed immediately, his blush deepening and his mouth curling in the best way – he was smiling, lips parting with a flash of teeth and a dimple pinched into his cheek that Fai had not known existed but was suddenly so grateful for he could barely express it. Endorphins crashed in ecstatic collision in Fai’s brain, a rush of chemical happiness that made him dizzy as that smile became a _grin_ , and the spark in Kurogane’s eye was damn near breathtaking. “For White Day,” said Kurogane, which made no sense at all for approximately three seconds (it was Wednesday? And Ichihara-san had stopped naming the days of the week after a colour around about the time she stopped pouring bourbon in her morning coffee) but then it hit him like a slap to the face, if a slap to the face made one beam in stupid delight.

This was a White Day gift – a favour returned for the chocolate heart Fai had given to him without a thought on Valentine’s Day. Kurogane had taken Fai’s awkward attempt at improving his mood as a confession with romantic intent, and _this_ , here and now and grasped in Fai’s trembling hands, was Kurogane’s answer.

If they had been teenagers, if the both of them had been younger and in the hold of infatuation’s hormonal sway, then this would be a declaration of intent: that Kurogane had feelings for him. That Kurogane _liked_ him, wanted him, was saying _yes_ to an unvoiced question that a gift of chocolate had dared to ask: _will you be mine?_

But before Fai’s spiralling hopes could get too high, Cupid’s bow shot him between the eyes with merciless epiphany: they _weren’t_ children, and the rules of teenage romance didn’t apply to them. Sudden dread pooled shivering and cold in Fai’s gut. He’d made a mistake, the first time, offering up his heart without considering what it could have meant on that day of all days – and Kurogane had misconstrued it into something it clearly wasn’t, something Fai would never dare to hope for. Which meant that this reciprocation had to be a mistake too. And Fai had no idea what to do.

Fai licked his lips. “Kuro-tan-sensei, I–”

_Phweeeeet-phwoo!!_

The wolfy whistle was _earsplitting_ , and it made Fai jump for the second time that afternoon, paper crumpling in his startled grip as he jerked about to face the sound – and the sheer horror of more than a dozen teenagers breaking out into cheers and clapping from their tables at the back of the cafeteria dining hall brought Fai’s hot-faced flush roaring back to life. Because they were very much in public. In fact, he and Kurogane were as in public as it was possible to be: very few things compared to being witnessed in an awkward moment of romantic realisation by a crowd of teenagers, thirsty for any new gossip and out for blood.

“ _Oi!_ _Quiet in the peanut gallery!_ ”

It wasn’t _quite_ the full-throated roar Fai knew Kurogane was capable of, but the force was definitely there – Kuro-wan’s bark had always been just as intense as his bite. And true, the children did quiet down (though not without another scattering of applause and whistles) after the shout, but it didn’t make Fai feel any less embarrassed. At least he wasn’t alone: Kurogane’s ears were well past red and into scarlet, his face delightfully flushed and dark brow adorably rumpled. The bad temper was undoubtedly a put on; Kurogane blushed when he was embarrassed, not when he was angry, though the threatening rumble in his voice did make it hard to tell if you didn’t know him well enough.

“Damn kids,” growled Kurogane, and dragged one big hand down over his face. Kurogane’s nose twitched in irritation, scrunching up a little as he huffed a deep breath, and when he looked down at Fai it was almost shyly.

 _This is not fair,_ thought Fai, looking up with a sense of sinking helplessness. _This is illegal. No one is allowed to be that cute!_ Especially when their biceps suggested they could tear a closed phonebook in half without breaking a sweat. (Which? _Help_.)

Kurogane cleared his throat. “Look. I’ll be coaching tonight, so I won’t see you on the walk home.” He swallowed, dragging in a deep breath through his nose. “But we should – we should have dinner this weekend.” The taut line of Kurogane’s mouth softened, just a little, and Fai’s heart – battered, bruised and aching so sweetly – gave a tender _thump_. “So we can, uh. Talk.”

Fai’s hands squeezed tight, the soft bundle between his fingers crumpling with a papery rustle. His ears were ringing. Maybe it was a fire alarm, or maybe it was an angelic chorus, but regardless of whether it was heavenly or hellbound, the sound set his head to floating so far in the clouds that all he could manage was a whispered “Uh-huh.” Fai’s cheeks hurt as they stretched, mouth trembling, and he knew without a doubt that the grin on his face was the world’s goofiest. He needed to – he needed to say something, to move his lips so that sound came out, anything other than the mumble he’d come up with. “I’d… I’d like that,” blurted Fai, brain finally wresting control back from his gormless tongue, and while not the most eloquent of statements, it was somehow _enough_ , because the tense line of Kurogane’s mouth softened into a smile.

Kurogane was _smiling_ , truly and crookedly, and Fai knew it was because he was happy: the corner of his mouth quirked, teeth flashing and the dimple in his cheek deepening in such a way that the urge to just lean forward and gently pinch said cheek was almost overwhelming. Fai resisted, but only barely, and the tangled mess of helpless animal feeling vibrating in Fai’s chest rolled over in submission, belly up, ready for joyful surrender. If heaven existed, it could not hope to feel even a little bit as good as Fai felt right now.

“I’ve got class,” said Kurogane, still smiling, and Fai had to remind himself quite firmly not to swoon. “We’ll talk later.”

“Well, you know where I live,” sighed Fai, channelling his inner Harlequin Novel heroine, because Kurogane _did_ know – in the same building, on the same floor, two doors down and just around the corner from Kurogane himself.

“Make sure you open that before you go home,” was Kurogane’s last firing shot, jabbing one finger towards Fai’s chest and the paper-wrapped parcel he clutched. Like a well-aimed arrow, it struck true: Fai stood and stared and wobbled just a little as he watched Kurogane’s broad shoulders and strong back as he walked away without looking back, and when the bell finally rang to signal the end of lunch period it took Fai a full ten seconds to realise that it was a real and worldly sound, and not just his the echo of his pulse sounding in rapid-beat.

Well, _fuck_. How, exactly, was Fai supposed to spend the afternoon making sure his various students didn’t set themselves on fire with Bunsen burners now?

* * *

Fai was not given the chance to dwell on his distraction overlong: he had places to go, classes to teach, and chemical compounds to prevent combusting in the hands of enthusiastic teenagers. Lingering in the cafeteria like a dumbly grinning fool would only invite questions as to what on earth he was doing, and probably more scrutiny than he was comfortable with. But the gift Kurogane had given him – the paper bundle tucked safely into the protective fold of his labcoat and smuggled briskly down the hall as he all but ran to reach his next class – brought joy like a lucky talisman, a warm glow that simmered softly in his chest all throughout the afternoon. With masterful control Fai resisted the urge to _open it open it damn it I just want to open it right now_ and struggled through his final two periods of the day with some semblance of teacher-like presence; by the time his last class had trickled out the door and left him in relative peace in the deserted laboratory classroom, his patience was as frayed as his nerves.

He could open it now, with no one around to see – and so he did.

The heaviness of the bundle inside was revealed as Fai carefully unfolded the bag, and the smallest rumpled sounds of paper unfolded skittered across the silence of the room like fireworks – impossibly loud over the blood pounding dully in his ears. Had Kurogane felt like this when Fai gave him his chocolate heart? Had he felt this same uncertain delight building in his chest as he held a gift unsought in trembling hands? (Probably not. There were _boulders_ more uncertain than dear Kuro-chan.)

All the same, Fai’s trembling smile was growing as he withdrew a soft and woollen parcel from its wrapping, paper bag discarded and fluttering to the floor unheeded in his captivation with its contents. Wool, he was certain it was wool, fine and well-knit between questing fingers: the soft burr of it was lovely against his nervous fingertips, and Fai caught himself stroking the weave with unthinking indulgence in the simple pleasure of the touch. It was pale blue, a light and icy shade, and as Fai turned its bundled length in his hands, the shift let soft folds unspool into the length of a _scarf_.

“Oh!” the delighted sound bubbled up without thought, and Fai laughed as he unwrapped it fully – definitely a scarf, wide enough to fold over for thickness and long enough to drape over neck and shoulders both. It was a perfect gift, in both function and form: lovely and practical and given in an understatement of significant care. It had been so unseasonably cold lately, and Fai had been complaining so often on their morning walks to campus – of course Kurogane would take Fai’s good-natured whining as a cue to do something to fix it.

There was no label anywhere to be found on it. Not that Fai expected to see a price tag, but no logo with maker’s mark was stitched onto the length of the scarf either, which was odd… at least until his second epiphany of the day struck with even less subtlety than the first. _Of course_ there was no label: this was _handmade_.

“I learned to knit from my mother,” Kurogane had said one late night at the end of last year, turning the needles in his hands with incredible speed as they moved through the yarn in steady, rhythmic motion. Kurogane had frowned at Fai’s excitement at the time, as though it were unremarkable that he should be so skilled, and perhaps it was in his own mind – but Fai had marvelled, leaning back against his washer and watching him work in awe as the clicking of the needles echoed off the tiled walls of the laundry room.

“She taught me when I was small,” Kurogane said then, those sharp eyes drifting back to the neat lines of loops interlocking into textile under his stern supervision, and the dexterity of his hands had been _fascinating_. “My grandmother taught her, and she taught me. I… didn’t keep up with it once I was older, but I started again in highschool. Kept me out of trouble,” he’d added with a wry snort, mouth twisted in a smirk.

“I was an angry kid,” he said then, almost too quiet to hear over the chugging of the washers and the spinning of the dryer behind him. “Got into fights a lot. One summer when I was about fourteen, my parents had enough of me – they drove me out to the countryside and left me at my grandmother’s house for a month. No fights to pick if there was no one around.”

The click of the needles had carried on, bright and polished metal flashing silver, each motion smooth and repetitive as loop after loop became rows of tight-woven knit and purl.

“I had a lot of time to think out there. And a lot of anger to work through. But it was an old house and my grandmother wasn’t well, and there wasn’t anyone else around to help her. So I did the chores around the place: weeded the garden and chopped wood for her fire, swept the verandah and beat the tatami mats, and when that was done I helped her with her knitting in the afternoons. She wasn’t very patient - she’d jab me with her pins if I didn’t keep up with her,” Kurogane chuckled, and did something complex with his needle and the yarn in his left hand to start a new row. “It was hard to stay angry when it was just me and her, and it was good for both of us. I went home after a couple of weeks, but I ended up taking it up again after she died that winter.”

Kurogane had paused then, needles momentarily still, before they had flicked back to quick and sudden life. “It helped.”

And Fai had understood that – how an angry young man could work through his emotions with his hands and something to use them on. He’d thrown himself into his studies for much the same reason, in his youth: couldn’t dwell on the pains of growing up and growing apart from his twin if he filled his head with formulae and chemical equations. Yuui had been much the same the year they bid farewell to their grandfather, but his grief had burnt itself down to low embers working through his collection of cookbooks and handwritten recipes, and the results had been much tastier than anything Fai came up with.

“What are you working on now, Kuro-tan-sensei?” he’d asked, unable to help his natural curiosity.

Kurogane had huffed, and laid his needles down when his machine beeped, rumbling to a stop as he got up from his chair. “Some knitted squares. I promised Tomoyo I would – she’s making a quilt, and she wanted me to make some pieces, so.” Unable to stop himself, Fai had hopped off his washing machine and crossed the room to poke curiously at the work in progress – the rows were tiny, impressively so, and he remembered how he’d been so incredulous that such big hands could make something so fine.

“ _Oi_. Leave it.” Kurogane had rapped him across the knuckles with another needle then, plucked from a canvas bag slumped on the table and much bigger in scale, a colour-tipped hook curling its far end. Fai had yelped and darted back, laughing, and the look on Kurogane’s face when he’d offered a sheepish grin had been thoroughly unimpressed. His playful comment that _maybe Kuro-purl-sensei should make me something too!_ had been met with much the same disdain, dismissed entirely as Kurogane heaved his dried washing into its basket without care for Fai’s teasing.

But here was proof that Kurogane hadn’t forgotten that late-night conversation: had remembered what Fai had said, months ago, and kept it at the back of his mind. Had considered it, and planned it, and spent hours of his time making it as a favour returned – time he could have kept to himself, time that could have been better used marking assignments or drawing up class plans. Time that could have been used for anything but making a gift completely unexpected, given as an answer to a question Fai had not known he’d asked. An answer Fai could hold in his hands and know was given to him alone.

“What have you _done_ , Kuro-chan?” Fai sighed, unwinding the scarf with shaking fingers. He wrapped it around himself, looping long folds around his neck and shoulders to slump down softly, revelling in the warmth as it spilled down over his chest – like Fai had stepped into safe shelter from out of the cold wind. “What are you doing to me?”

Was it selfish to hope that Kurogane never stopped? Probably. But Fai couldn’t stop himself from hoping all the same.


	3. The Day After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A man can give another man chocolate without it meaning he wants to have _sex_ with him!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fai: OMG it's almost like Kuro-chan likes me or something! What's up with that?!
> 
> Kurogane: [facepalms]

Fai Flowright, thirty-three, single (?) and the recent recipient of his first ever White Day gift, walked home on the evening of the 14th of March as though walking on air.

A spring in his step and a (poor imitation of a) whistle on his lips, Fai crossed the pedestrian bridge that led over the highway from the Horistuba Academy campus at speed, in defiance of the cold wind creeping chill fingers beneath the folds of his clothes – the new scarf, wrapped snugly around his neck and shoulders, was more than enough to keep him warm despite the oncoming evening. It was already past sundown, and he saw no reason to linger; each step skipped light over gritty asphalt as he darted up the steps, across the bridge and down the opposite side.

As cold as it was – and it was fucking _freezing_ for early spring – the grin on his face wouldn’t fade. It stayed there, curling Fai’s mouth gleefully, as he came through the entryway of the humble apartment building he called home; even the long wait in the chilly lobby for the elevator to take him to the fifth floor did nothing to dull his happiness. In fact, it wasn’t until Fai made his way along the hallway and stepped on a suspiciously squidgy patch of carpet that his smile began to fade.

“The _hell_ …?”

Water squished up around the soles of Fai’s shoes as his steps slowed, and he shivered at the cold droplets splashed up into his socks as he stopped and stared at the spreading puddle flowing across the carpeted hallway… the spreading puddle which was, apparently and unfortunately, leaking from the gap beneath Fai’s apartment door.

Cursing in every language he knew (which was at least three), Fai scowled as he stomped across the squishing carpet and fumbled with his keys to open the door; by the time he had it open, his shoes were soaked through and his socks not far off. Still cursing, and in a much worse mood than before, Fai stumbled inside to find a flooded kitchen, a pipe that had burst up from beneath the linoleum floor, and an ankle-deep pool of water that had come from said burst pipe to flood said kitchen. And most of his lounge area. And probably part of the bedrooms too, by the look of it.

Cursing even more, but in particularly and purposefully foul-mouthed French this time, Fai splashed through his kitchen to the broken pipe and his brand-new internal water feature, crouching down to assess the damage and ignoring how quickly freezing water soaked through his trousers.

“Well, this is just _lovely_ ,” he muttered. _At least the pipe shut itself off – probably some kind of emergency valve._ Though that was cold (and wet) comfort in the face of his next water bill. “Only one thing for it,” sighed Fai, bracing himself on the kitchen benchtop as he dragged himself upright once more. Fai took a moment to free himself of his cosy scarf, folding it up carefully and tucking it safely on the kitchen bench. After that, off came the shoes and socks – Fai shuddering uncomfortably as bare feet met unpleasantly water-clogged linoleum and his soaking trousers slopped against his bare legs – and once he managed to get the estate manager on the phone to explain his situation, it was off to the linen press to fetch his mop and bucket.

“Could have been worse,” Fai mumbled to himself as he mopped and squeezed and poured water down the drain in the bathtub. He had no low-lying electric outlets, so none of his appliances had fried, and most were high enough that they had escaped damage; his television was mounted on the wall, and he had no floor lamps. He had no freestanding bookshelves, only shelves on the walls in his bedroom, and the lowest shelf in the linen cupboard was high enough it had missed the flood. His laundry basket had gotten wet, but it was plastic and clothes were only clothes – nothing that couldn’t be wrung out, washed and dried later. But the bottom of his small sofa was waterlogged and gross, meaning it would probably have to be replaced, and the dresser in his bedroom was much the same – soaked right through to the bottom drawers where the dark wood had drawn the water up into the grain. Not to mention the gaping hole in the floor of his kitchen, which definitely needed fixing. And if building insurance didn’t get around shortly with the industrial fans to help dry his apartment out, the floor boards beneath the linoleum were going to warp.

At least Fai’s somewhat neglected pot plants had gotten a good drink – and Ichihara-san had been understanding about him needing time off work.

“ _Of course you won’t be coming to work tomorrow, Fai-san. You need to get your apartment fixed first_,” she’d said, and sighed musically over the phone, making the line crackle. “ _And if I were you, I’d look for a place to sleep the next few days – you can’t expect to spend the night in a soaking wet bedroom. You’ll catch a cold, and we don’t want that_.” If it were possible for a human being to wink in such a way as to be heard even on the phone, Ichihara-san had mastered it, and Fai had hung up with the resigned feeling that his weekend plans – namely, dinner with Kuro-chan – were rapidly gurgling down the drain along with the water from his mop bucket.

It had been a strange day, but ultimately a good one; to have it end like _this_ was disappointing in a way that Fai hadn’t felt in a very long time.

_“Hey – you alright in there?”_

Kurogane’s voice, echoing from the open doorway, made Fai jump for the third time that day – and brought a smile blooming back across his face. “Kuro-tan-sensei! I’m in here – but don’t come in, the floor’s all wet!” Dropping his mop back into its bucket, Fai squelched over his way out of the kitchen to find Kurogane already taking his shoes and socks off at the door and propping them up against the wall outside his apartment, clearly determined to come inside despite Fai’s warning not to.

“What the hell happened here?” said Kurogane, peering over Fai’s shoulder to assess the damage. “You leave a tap on or something?”

Fai sighed. _It’s good to see you as always, Kuro-chan, but I’d hoped it would be in better circumstances than this._ “Burst pipe in the kitchen – there’s a hole in the floor and everything. I’ve already called the estate manager so someone will be here soon enough.”

Kurogane clicked his tongue. “ _Tch_ – that blows. Anything damaged?”

“A few bits of furniture – nothing electrical, thankfully. Mostly just the carpet and the floor in the kitchen.” Fai smiled ruefully. “I thought I’d get started on the clean-up at least – the sooner the better. I’m afraid I won’t be at school tomorrow. I’m going to have call up the insurance company and have them send someone out, and they’ll probably need me here.”

Kurogane nodded at that, frowning down at his feet where his toes sunk into the sodden carpet. “Well, you’re not sleeping here tonight – this place is a mess.” He wasn’t wrong, and that was the worst thing about it. Even if Fai _did_ manage to get all the water mopped up, his apartment was damp and cold; if he tried to spend the night, he’d probably make himself sick, just like Ichihara-san said.

“I know,” groaned Fai, leaning against the wall and _thump_ ing his head back against the cool plaster. “I need to see if I can get a room at a hotel–” Fai blinked when Kurogane cut him off with a snort.

“Hotel? What are you talking about?” Kurogane scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve got a spare futon, so you better pack what you need for the next couple of nights.”

Fai’s brain, already overloaded from a long, eventful day and currently buzzing with thoughts such as _how much is this going to make my insurance premium rise_ and _if I find a good second hand furniture store I might be able to replace my furniture without blowing this month’s budget_ and _how on earth am I going to tell my brother I trashed my apartment_ , short-circuited completely at that statement. “Huh?”

Kurogane quirked an eyebrow. “You heard me. Why would you spend money on a hotel when you can crash at my place? Go on – get packing. I’ll take over here.” He was apparently serious too – Fai’s spluttering protests were ignored as Kurogane grabbed him by the shoulders, turned him about, and gave him a gentle shove in the direction of his bedroom. “Don’t forget all your insurance paperwork.”

“But – _I_ – Kuro-tan-sensei!”

The loud clattering of the mop bucket in the kitchen as Kurogane got to work suggested any attempts at arguing would be met with stubborn disregard, and in spite of himself, Fai had to smile. _Alright, I guess I’m spending the night at Kuro-chan’s._ A pleasant little thrill shivered down Fai’s spine – he’d never been to Kurogane’s apartment before, only caught a glimpse or two around the doorway mid-conversation. It would be nice to see inside and confirm his suspicions that Kurogane was just as much of a nerd in private as he was a grumpy hardarse at work.

“Make it quick, would ya?” Kurogane called from the kitchen, a bark in his voice that Fai knew was just for show. “It’s already past dinner time and I’m not eating late because you’re being slow!”

Fai laughed. “Alright, alright – Kuro-tan-sensei is such a _bully_!”

Despite not having any idea as to what one should pack for spending the night at their Accidental Valentine (and Not-Quite-A-Boyfriend?)’s place due to a minor flooding disaster, Fai managed to scrounge together a few days’ worth of clothes and shove them into a duffel bag, dropping his laptop and the file with all his property paperwork in on top. But when he ducked into the bathroom to grab his toothbrush, expecting it to be in the same disastrous state he’d left it – towels soaking up water on the floor, puddles drying on wet tile – Fai was stunned to see it much cleaner: towels rung out and hung up over the shower curtain rail, the tile fresh-mopped and gleaming, and all of the extra puddles of water mopped up from where they’d spilt.

 _Kuro-chan…_ Clearly Kurogane had taken it upon himself to clean up while he was waiting, and Fai bit his lip against the warm flush that threatened to creep up his neck. It felt… nice, to know that someone wanted to help him, would do it unasked and with no ulterior motive, and as ridiculous as it was, it really did make him feel a lot better to know that no matter what problems cropped up, Kurogane wouldn’t let Fai deal with it alone.

“Oi. You done yet?”

When Fai walked out to the kitchen, Kurogane was finishing up where he’d been mopping, the mop bucket emptied and tipped up to drain in the sink, and the mop propped up against it so that it could dry properly. He’d also opened up the side windows in the lounge room, just enough for cool air to trickle through. With weather this cold, they wouldn’t help Fai’s apartment dry out very much, but at least the increased ventilation would help prevent mould taking root until industrial fans could be brought in to dry everything properly.

“I guess so. Thank you, Kuro-tan-sensei – you didn’t need to–”

Kurogane dismissed Fai’s awkward attempt at a thank you with a huff and a haughty glare. “Whatever. Just didn’t want you taking all night, that’s all. Come on, let’s get going.” Bemused, Fai watched him walk past, only to pause at the kitchen bench and pick up the scarf Fai had left there earlier – the same scarf that Kurogane had made for him, with all the care in him. “Put that on,” he muttered, tossing it at Fai’s head – Fai only barely managed to get an arm up to catch it. “Don’t want you catching a cold.”

Fai grinned, wrapping his scarf around his neck with deliberate care. “Haven’t you heard, Kuro-chan-sensei? Idiots can’t catch colds.”

“Tch. Wouldn’t put it past _you_ ,” came the snapped retort, but the scowl on Kurogane’s face wasn’t a match for the spark in his eye at the sight of Fai wearing the scarf he’d made... or the flush to his face, pink blooming lovely against the sharp lines of his cheekbones. “Move it – I’m hungry and I’m not waiting all night to eat.”

“ _Coming_ , coming!”

* * *

Like all of the other apartments on this floor – and indeed, the whole building for that matter – Kurogane’s apartment was a mirror image of Fai’s. Literally so, considering how the apartments had been designed and the two additional units that separated Kurogane’s apartment from Fai’s. Their apartments therefore had the same layout, down to the shared wall between the kitchen and the bathroom, and the small entrance nook just inside the front door. Unlike Fai’s apartment, however, Kurogane’s home was dry and clean and absent a decent sized hole in his kitchen floor. Instead, the whole wall of the lounge and living area was covered in bookshelves, and each one of those bookshelves was crammed full-to-bursting with _books_.

Some were manga _tankobon_ volumes, others were light novels and paperbacks, and a whole three shelves were filled with the ridiculously huge editions of Kurogane’s favourite manga serial magazine, _Weekly Mangayan_. There was even a top shelf full of pristine, first-edition copies of one of Kurogane’s favourite series, _Feather Hoard Tale_ – a second copy of which could be found on the shelf below it, though significantly more dog-eared and battered.

(Despite the word salad title, it was apparently a very good story that subverted several popular _shonen_ tropes, focused on found family and the literary conceit of destiny being self-determined, and took a dark and serious turn in the second half of the narrative. Fai had spent more than one very entertaining evening at the Clover Bar & Izakaya in downtown Tomoeda listening to Kurogane rant about the terrible anime adaptation after a few drinks, completely distracting himself from the fact that Fai had been stealing pieces of fried chicken from his snack basket the whole time.)

Fai whistled, impressed at the sheer quantity of manga volumes stuffed onto the shelves before him. “Wow – Kuro-taku-sensei really _is_ a nerd.”

“Shut it,” growled Kurogane, with no heat in his voice whatsoever. He’d finished hanging up their coats and Fai’s scarf, and took a quick step closer to snatch Fai’s duffel bag from his hand before he could even begin to protest. “And don’t call me _sensei_ in my own damn home – we’re not at school.”

“You got it, Kuro-chan,” said Fai blithely, grinning at the way dark eyebrows twitched and earning himself an irritated _tch!_ as Kurogane stomped off.

Turning down the hall and towards what had to be his spare room, Kurogane threw one hand up as if to say _why do I bother_ , and left Fai to examine his bookshelves more closely. While many series appeared to be double-stacked to conserve space, there were a few shelves with various knickknacks in pride of place, including no small number of framed photographs. Tomoyo featured in a few, such as a particularly charming shot of Kurogane in his very early teens with an adorably chubby toddler held out in front of him like a cat, both of them grinning for the camera, and a more serious photograph of the two of them outside an old-fashioned house in the mountains, slightly older now and standing next to an elderly woman with a gentle smile. Fai’s favourite, however, had to be the snapshot of Kurogane at his graduation; gangly teen Kuro-chan in his very best formal suit with diploma in hand, frowning solemnly with his beaming parents beside him. It showed him to be the spitting image of his father – although perhaps an inch or three taller – but most importantly, to have inherited his mother’s smile.

“Right, take this and get yourself in the shower,” said Kurogane, and that was apparently all the warning Fai got before a folded-up towel smacked him in the back of the head.

“Huh?” managed Fai, swiping ineffectually at the towel as it unfolded right over his head and covered him briefly; by the time he wrangled his way out of his terry cloth prison, Kurogane was glaring down at him with folded arms and a disapproving expression.

“You. _Shower_. Now,” barked Kurogane, pointing a finger as though Fai were a recalcitrant pupil, and Fai could only blink up at him in bewilderment, clutching his towel as though it were a lifeline. “I’m a phys. ed. and _health_ teacher – I know what the early warning signs of hypothermia are,” he continued, teacherly voice perfectly matter of fact, “and your lips are turning _blue_. You were mopping up wearing wet clothes on a freezing cold day for at least an hour before I showed up, weren’t you?” Kurogane didn’t wait for an answer. “Get in the shower and warm yourself up properly, and then get some dry clothes on.” The gruffness of his tone flushed Fai with its own kind of warmth – Kurogane must really have been worried about him to bluster so, and it was hard to miss the concerned furrow of his brow despite his scowl.

“ _Aw_ , Kuro-chan,” teased Fai. He didn’t try to argue – Kurogane did have a point. Fai had been shivering for some time, even with his brand-new scarf, and his feet were almost numb from cold.

“What kind of idiot wades into ankle-deep water to go splashing about in the middle of damn winter, anyway?” muttered Kurogane, stomping off to his kitchen to clatter about with pots and pans pulled from his dish rack, and leaving Fai laughing in the loungeroom.

“It’s supposed to be spring!” Fai may have laughed, but he didn’t bother protesting; Kurogane couldn’t be argued with when he was being stubborn about another’s wellbeing. It was just one of the many, many things that Fai – well, that Fai _really liked_ about him. (And if Fai was purposefully avoiding particular words in the privacy of his own head, there was no one to notice – not even himself.)

Kurogane’s gruff kindness aside, a shower was the best thing Fai could do right now, especially since Kurogane had been kind enough to offer him a place to sleep tonight. So, Fai took the short walk down the hall to the bathroom that was almost identical to his own, and the bizarre sense of _jamais vu_ that came with it. Off came the wet clothes, and into the shower Fai stepped, hissing at the sudden stinging heat of the water lapping over his chilled skin.

You could tell a lot about a man by the state of his bathroom (not to mention his choice of body wash) and Fai smiled to find that Kurogane’s preferred soap was a handmade bar-soap that smelled very nice, with earthy, woodsy tones – and also looked suspiciously like the same soap the Aromatherapy Club had sold at the Horitsuba Academy Winter Markets to fundraise for their club earlier in the year. Cedarwood and ginger, if Fai was to guess, and that explained the rather delicious scent he’d assumed was Kurogane’s cologne the last time he’d caught a sniff of it.

There was a certain level of intimacy to using someone else’s soap and shampoo, and Fai was really trying not to think about the implications that, for the next few hours at least, he would smell much the same as Kuro-chan did – not that Fai was thinking about the way Kurogane _smelled_. Nope.

(He was. It was always good, even that time Kurogane had gotten all sweaty running around after the kids at the Sport Festival.)

Nor was he thinking about the fact that he had not, in actuality, brought a change of clothes into the bathroom with him – so when Fai _did_ step out of the shower, reaching for the towel he’d dropped on the basin, it was to say “Ah,” loudly and stand there dripping for a good minute or two.

Well. Dashing to the spare room in only a towel was definitely off the table – that kind of thing was somewhat frowned upon in polite society, especially as a guest in someone else’s home. A nudie run was also a terrible idea; Fai did need to make eye contact with Kurogane on a regular basis, and if he was caught _au naturale_ in Kurogane’s hallway, Fai would have to move back to Italy and spend the rest of his life in hermitage in the Alps from the shame of it.

Halfway to working himself into a conniption, the rap of knuckles against the wood of the bathroom door knocked Fai’s thoughts clean out of his head. “I put your bag in the spare room,” said Kurogane brusquely. “Go get yourself dressed – there’s a hook on the back of the door for your towel. I’ll be in the kitchen, starting dinner.” Before Fai could stutter anything like a response, he was gone again, quiet footsteps echoing up the hall.

 _Well. That’s my choice made for me, I suppose._ Tacit permission given, Fai ducked out of the bathroom with his towel knotted securely around his waist and his wet clothes bundled in his arms, and stepped quickly into Kurogane’s spare room – which, much like the loungeroom, was lined with bookcases along one wall. These ones seemed filled with textbooks and various academic journal detritus, and the light from the overhead gleamed on starkly printed titles like _Introduction to Advanced Kinesiology_ and _Muscular Anatomy in Athletes_ when Fai flicked it on.

Besides the bookcases and what looked a bamboo rack filled with cloth-covered kendo equipment, there was a decently sized futon laid out across the floor and Fai’s duffel sitting neatly at the foot of it, along with two heavy folded blankets. The futon looked thick and comfortable, the blankets well-used but warm, and the bone-aching tiredness Fai had felt since coming home to a flooded kitchen made itself felt immediately: it was a challenge to not simply flop face-first onto the pillowtop and give in to the urge to sleep. But Fai was nothing if not a polite guest, and so he wrangled wet clothes into a plastic bag for later laundering, and scrounged together a warm outfit, along with a pair of humorously fluffy bedsocks Yuui had given him three Christmases ago. (Fai had always had cold feet – and not just due to poor circulation.)

By the time Fai made it out to the kitchen – drawn by the appetising scent of something savoury frying – he was almost human again, and ready to muster up an evening of grateful conversation, even if only to see dear Kuro-chan flush pink. (Good men never liked to be thanked, after all; needed no praise due for what they saw as something anyone else would do, regardless of the cold reality that made their actions exceptional.)

“You look warmer,” said Kurogane, glancing over his shoulder. The frypan on the stove sizzled enticingly, and Fai’s stomach growled at the sound – whatever Kurogane was cooking smelled damn good.

“The shower helped,” Fai admitted, trying (and failing) to sneak a peek at the pan. It was a pointless endeavour, as Kurogane had something like six inches on him in height and also shoulders like a brick barricade, and the only thing Fai earnt for his troubles was a firm rap on the knuckles from the strainer’s wooden handle. “Ow!”

Kurogane scowled. “Oi. Watch it. It’s not ready yet.”

“I don’t see why Kuro-chef gets to make himself something tasty and not tell me what it is.” Was it childish to pout? Probably, but then Kurogane already knew that Fai had the emotional maturity of three cats in a labcoat. “If he’s not going to share, he can at least let me have a _look_ …”

Kurogane paused with his cooking chopsticks suspended an inch above sizzling oil, and the confusion on his face was actually adorable – something that Fai would _never_ admit out loud, seeing as he’d rather like to sleep in a bed tonight and not be kicked back into his flooded apartment. “The hell you talking about? I’m making _us_ dinner, idiot.”

 _Oh,_ thought Fai, and then “Oh,” said Fai, because he wasn’t prepared for that answer. His dinner plans for tonight had been vague and _combini_ -centred, and the prospect of a home-cooked meal made by a handsome man was rather like being slapped gently in the face with a velvet glove: startling, but also strangely pleasant? “Um. Thank you?”

(His dinner plans for Saturday – _well_. Fai hadn’t really had the time to think about _those_ just yet.)

“Don’t thank me yet – it’s just _karaage_. Not the healthiest, but I figured you deserved something nice after coming home to that mess,” grumbled Kurogane, turning back to the stovetop with reddening ears. Fai, still hung up on the fact that _Kurogane was cooking him dinner,_ just grinned dumbly in response, leaning back against the kitchen bench and watching in delight as Kurogane began to scoop up pieces of deliciously browned and crispy chicken from the bubbling oil and set them to drain on a plate with paper towel. The rice cooker on the bench _beep_ ed cheerfully, trilling a happy little tune to indicate it was done, and Kurogane huffed as he reached over to switch it off. “Get the bowls, would ya? Second cupboard along, top shelf.”

Kurogane apparently kept his crockery in the same place Fai did, and that was helpful because the majority of Fai’s brain was running on autopilot while the rest of his braincells struggled to process the situation he was in. Incredibly attractive men did not give him gifts, or invite him to stay the night, or cook him dinner – except until they apparently _did_ , and Kurogane was entirely responsible for the giddy happiness fizzing up in Fai’s chest like sweet champagne. At this point, his apartment flooding was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

(Well, no, it _wasn’t_ , was it? Because earlier today Kurogane had said _I said I’d return the favour_ and _you don’t have to take it if you don’t want it_ and _for White Day_ – and each moment had been better than the last.)

“Bowls,” said Fai helpfully, setting them on the cupboard; they rested on the benchtop only for a moment before Kurogane turned and reached for them, and Fai was suddenly more aware than ever how _small_ the kitchenettes in this apartment building really were – and how very, _very_ tall Kurogane actually was. Had he always been this tall? And this _big_? Surely not. It was far too cold for Fai to be sweating, but the back of his neck felt prickly and damp all at once when Kurogane nudged him aside with an elbow so he could squeeze past Fai, and Fai himself was backed up against the sink as the overhead light cast a warm halo over Kurogane, softening shadow only highlighting the loveliness of his strong features and the intensity of his dark eyes.

“Here,” said Kurogane, having dished up Fai’s dinner in the time it took for Fai to realise he was staring (and obviously so at that). Without thinking, Fai reached out, and the warm ceramic that landed in his open palms made him shiver pleasantly as his cold hands curled around the bowl, now laden with freshly cooked rice, finely chopped cabbage drizzled with some kind of citrus-dressing, and delicious morsels of deep-fried chicken. “I have katsu sauce if you want it,” added Kurogane, a note of bemusement in his voice as he watched Fai sigh happily, drawing in a deep breath of the delicious smell steaming from his dinner.

“You’d think I’d be a better cook than I am,” mused Fai, looking thoughtfully down at the bowl cupped in his hands, “what with being a chemistry teacher and all, but I honestly think Yuui absorbed all of _that_ particular talent in the womb.” Fai didn’t begrudge his brother his incredible culinary skills, not in the least – and he _liked_ cooking; he really did! He was just fucking terrible at it.

“You made chocolate, didn’t you?” said Kurogane, settling next to him by the benchtop with his own bowl wrapped in one hand. He offered Fai bamboo chopsticks, which were gratefully received. “It tasted pretty good.”

That was high praise from Kuro-chan, and Fai’s face warmed. “We were tempering the chocolate. That isn’t _cooking_ – that’s just sound understanding of crystal polymorphism and triglycerides,” said Fai dismissively, selecting the juiciest piece of chicken in his bowl with careful concentration. He was comfortable with chopsticks through the sheer necessity of practice, but Fai’s first eating utensil as a toddler had been a plastic spork.

“Uh huh,” said Kurogane flatly, and then nothing else for a moment as he took a bite of his rice, chewing thoughtfully. “And you thought _teenagers_ would have a good handle on tri-whatsits.”

“Can’t teach ‘em how to swim without throwing them in the deep end,” chirped Fai, and took his own bite, crunchy _karaage_ coating crackling onto his tongue and his teeth shearing through tender chicken as its savoury taste flooded his mouth. That first bite was followed by a delighted groan as Fai’s eyes fluttered closed and his head tipped back in appreciative pleasure – completely oblivious to his observing company as he did so, who watched with something like surprise and satisfaction and the softly parted lips of a mouth opened in speechless consideration.

“Kuro-chan,” mumbled Fai around a mouthful of quickly-swallowed chicken, and sounding barely understandable as he did so, “this is _delicious_. Why did I not know this about you? What other secret talents have you been hiding from me?” A second and third morsel were soon to follow, Fai savouring the citric tang of yuzu dressing and the crisp texture of the cabbage. He was no gourmand like Yuui, who could detect a wine’s vintage from a single sniff, but Fai could write sonnets about the interplay of acidity and _umami_ in the bright burst of bitter limonoids colliding with the lushness of the fats and oils from each mouthful of tender meat as it rolled across his tongue.

Kurogane huffed. “ _Tch_. I can make maybe a dozen dishes. Fifteen, if you count sauces and miso soup.” He took his own bite then, and Fai caught the flash of teeth as Kurogane lifted his chopsticks to his mouth, a fleck of rice clinging to the corner of his lip. “Your brother’s the one that does weird shit with European vegetables I can’t pronounce.”

“Maybe so, but this is wonderful. _Definitely_ better than reheated meat-sauce pasta from the _combini_.” Now that Fai was eating, the hunger he’d been pushing to back of his mind since late afternoon leapt to the fore like a dog unleashed – he fell upon his dinner with appreciative gusto, savouring the warmth in his belly and the sheer delight in a home-cooked meal made by talented hands, no matter how simple. It wasn’t long until he’d cleared his bowl entirely, ignoring Kurogane’s apparent amusement as he ate his own dinner at a more sedate pace; Fai was already scraping up the last flecks of crispy breading and soft rice dappled with the remnants of the dressing from the cabbage as he went while Kurogane had only eaten the first third of his own meal.

But after satiated hunger came the sudden blink of tiredness sweeping over once more, Fai’s belly full and his corresponding thirst slaked by a glass of water Kurogane poured him from the filter jug resting on the benchtop: all his immediate needs were met so now his body wanted sleep, and _soon_.

“Wasn’t exactly how I planned on making you dinner,” said Kurogane wryly, mouth twisting at the corner. The dimple in his cheek flickered briefly into view as he stifled what Fai could only assume to be a grin and lifted Fai’s bowl from his hands without care for attempted protests. Ceramic clinked against the metal of the sink, Fai’s chopsticks rattling against his empty bowl, and Kurogane’s face was stern and kind and lovely as he folded his arms and stared Fai down with his very best glare. “Go to bed. Every day’s a long one for a teacher, but yours was longer than most.”

“Kuro-chan–” Fai tried to wheedle, pulse fluttering loud in his ears. (How had Kurogane planned on making him dinner? Was he still planning, for this Saturday night? Even the mere _thought_ of it made Fai feel dizzy with its momentous implications.)

“Don’t argue,” said Kurogane firmly. “You’ll only lose.” A broad hand curled around Fai’s shoulder, the heat of Kurogane’s palm searing in its warmth, the hold of his fingers sure and strong – Fai could have sworn he could feel each fingerprint burning through the fleece of his jumper. “Goodnight.”

And that was all Fai got from him after being frog-marched down the hall – well, not quite frog-marched, but at least steered very firmly, his (sleepy) protests ignored as Kurogane directed him through the door of the spare room and flicked off the switch for the overhead before Fai could object. The last slice of the light from the kitchen spilled from the doorway in a soft yellow wedge across the bedroom floor, just enough to navigate by, and Fai collapsed onto the futon gratefully before Kurogane had even closed the door.

* * *

Despite collapsing into slumber fully-clothed and atop the covers, Fai only stirred once in the dark hours of the night.

Mostly asleep, he half-woke with a grumble to strip off his outer layers and wriggle more properly into the bed Kurogane had kindly laid out for him; after he'd snuggled safely down into the plush weight of the futon, slept had swept him over and under once more. It wasn’t until much later that Fai woke for the second time, squinting blearily into a room made dark and strange by the very early hours of the morning despite the familiarity of its shape. Flicking his phone on nearly blinded him with the sudden glare, and the hasty glance across the screen Fai managed before it slipped through his fingers and dropped to the futon helpfully informed him the time was 23% battery.

It was a sound that had woken him, and Fai rubbed at his eyes as he tried to sit up, still blinking back spots. The tiny sliver of light trickling under the door wasn’t enough to see by, but he could hear clearer now without being snuggled down into the covers, and whatever that sound had been (a door opening?) it had come somewhere from the front of the apartment, either kitchen or loungeroom. Kurogane, then, awake already and preparing for his day at work.

_Kuro-chan’s up early._

Fai couldn’t say he was surprised, because Kurogane apparently went for a run before school every morning – did no physical education teacher anywhere in the world understand the concept of sleeping in? – but the jingle of keys and a soft rustling noise (a coat thrown onto a hook?) suggested Fai had snoozed right through Kurogane leaving his apartment and returning, and _that_ was surprising. _I must have slept like the dead._ _Guess I needed it._ Yesterday had been exhausting in many ways – emotionally, mentally, physically – and Fai had always been the kind to ‘sleep it off’ whenever stress got the best of him. (Well. The sleeping usually came after the wine.) Even so, he hadn’t expected to sleep so soundly in Kurogane’s bed–

Fai’s brain screeched to a halt as he blinked aimlessly into the darkness. He’d meant Kurogane’s _spare_ bed, of course. No one was sleeping in Kurogane’s actual bed, literally or figuratively, besides the man himself. (And Fai was most definitely _not_ thinking about sleeping in Kurogane’s bed _himself_ , either.)

But somewhere between the panic at his own implications and the bemusement of sleeping so well in such a strange situation, Fai had missed that sound of footsteps drawing closer down the hall and past the bedroom. Distracted as he was, it took a moment for the sound of the shower turning on to filter through, and when it did, the realisation was much more flustering than merely thinking about Kurogane’s sleeping arrangements. Because, naturally, the sounds of running water meant that Kurogane was showering (as he was permitted to do, seeing as he was _in his own damn home_ ) and Fai was forced to reconcile that thought with the acceptance of the fact that Kurogane was currently naked and wet just across the hallway.

Of _course_ he showered in the morning after his run. Kurogane like to run fast and he liked to run far, and Fai had seen how those long legs ate up the pavement at Tomoeda’s Cross-City Charity Fun Run – for a man to be that good at running long distances at high speed (and to be that good at chasing around annoying teenagers, for that matter) it required a lot of training, and as much as he was an excellent teacher, Kurogane was a creature of habit. Up every morning for a pre-dawn run, come rain, hail, or the inconvenience of having one’s neighbour crash in a spare room for the night. And, despite his gruff demeanour and tendency to wear sportswear on campus even when he didn’t need to, Kurogane had excellent hygiene – he wasn’t going to come to school all sweaty and gross after a good workout, either.

 _Aaaaand now we’re thinking about Kuro-chan getting all sweaty._ Sweaty, specifically, but definitely not gross. There was a _reason_ they called it an athlete’s glow: Kurogane never looked so attractive but for when he was grinning after a hard workout done well, cheeks delightfully flushed and damp strands of dark hair tumbling fetchingly across his sweat-dappled forehead. Not to mention the tendency of said athleisure clothing to cling at the best of times, but _especially_ when damp – it was one thing to _know_ one’s colleague was possessed of musculature that would make Michaelangelo weep, it was another entirely to see the swell of his pectorals and biceps push fabric to its straining boundaries.

“Okay,” croaked Fai, swallowing hard against a suddenly dry mouth. “Now is the time to get out of bed and find coffee.” Caffeine would surely help prune any budding naughty thoughts before they had the chance to blossom into anything truly salacious. Probably. Maybe. Fuck, Fai hoped it would.

Rolling out of bed and shoving clumsy arms back through the sleeves of the jumper he’d cast off last night, Fai made his way to the kitchen to the tune of the shower running and his own thoughts wheeling around like, well, a hamster on a wheel. Coffee would provide the mental grease needed to wake him up properly: to stop the proverbial hamster wheel from squeaking, and get his thoughts in some semblance of order, and despite Kurogane drinking his daily caffeine without sugar, Fai had the feeling he was going to need a whole heaping spoonful of the stuff.

The jar of instant coffee was easy enough to find – Kurogane, much like Fai himself, kept it on the benchtop next to the electric kettle – but that wasn’t what gave him pause: it was the clean mug sitting on the benchtop in front of the kettle, teaspoon beside it. Kurogane’s cup was already on the sink, rinsed clean and left to dry; he’d already had his morning coffee, probably before he’d left for his run. Which meant this one had to be for Fai.

Carefully, and following a hopeful train of thought, Fai tapped the back of his knuckles against the side of the kettle – and just as quickly drew his hand back from the hot metal. Fresh-boiled then, all the better for Fai to quickly reheat the water inside it whenever he woke up.

“Kuro-chan,” sighed Fai, “if you don’t stop being so nice to me, I’m going to start thinking you actually _like_ me.”

Making his coffee and drinking it helped Fai cast off the last remnants of sleep, but he was still yawning as he leaned back against the benchtop with his hands wrapped around the mug to warm them up, and Fai’s heart felt almost as warm as his fingers now were. Fai didn’t normally start the day with a smile: he’d never been a morning person, and he was only up before seven every weekday for the sake of his career, not because he wanted to be. But maybe waking up like this wasn’t so bad. And while Fai wasn’t heading to campus like he normally would, it would still be nice to spend a little bit of time with Kurogane before he got caught up in calling through to the rental agency and tried to sort out the mess of his apartment.

Kurogane had been kind enough to offer his own home as somewhere for Fai to sit and lodge his insurance claim over the phone, and while Fai would eventually have to head back to take stock of the damage, the thought that at least he didn’t have to spend the whole day in his cold and damp apartment improved his mood a little. And while they had theoretical dinner plans for Saturday night, there was nothing saying Fai couldn’t come back _tonight_ to see Kurogane once the school day was over. At the very least, Fai would have to come over to give Kurogane his house-keys back, seeing as he was lending Fai his spare set.

Head spinning with a muddle of premium rates and excess fees, Fai was almost down to the dregs of his coffee when the shower turned off. He wasn’t exactly listening out for it either, having found a pen and notepad on the end of the kitchen bench and made good use of it to scratch out of list of things he had to do today, sipping absentmindedly as he did so. Which was why, when the bathroom door opened and Kurogane walked down the small hallway towards his bedroom, Fai froze with the mouth of his coffee cup caught on his lip and Kurogane – freshly showered, towel-clad, and ever so slightly dripping on the carpet – standing squarely in his line of vision.

“You’re up early,” said Kurogane, frowning. A droplet of water slid down his chin and dropped onto his collarbone, before trickling downwards still.

“Nuh?” said Fai.

“I figured you’d take the chance to sleep in,” Kurogane continued, apparently oblivious to Fai’s inability to do anything other than stare at the slow seep of water from his damp hair as it dripped and trickled down from where Kurogane had slicked it back with his hands, tiny little rivulets slipping slowly over brown skin. Quite a lot of brown skin, actually, all of it lovely: flushed warm from the shower, with little wisps of steam still whispering up from Kurogane’s shoulders to tell of his preferences for water temperature.

Kurogane lifted a hand to scratch idly at the back of his neck – chasing the tickle from where wet hair clung to warm skin, most likely – and Fai suddenly had to focus very, very hard on not letting his gaze slip lower, especially as it was only the bath towel wrapped around Kurogane’s waist that preserved his modesty.

“Couldn’t sleep,” coughed Fai, sounding more like he’d been chugging vodka rather than sipping coffee. Did… did Kurogane just not _know_ what he looked like? Was he just _that_ ignorant of the acres of gorgeous skin and rippling muscle he was putting on display? …was Fai drooling? _A yes to all of the above, probably_ , thought Fai, resting his cup on the bench and wiping his chin awkwardly. “I figured I might as well take advantage of the early start.” At least the words coming out of his mouth sounded like they were making sense, because all Fai could hear was a high-pitched whistling noise that sounded like the metaphorical kettle coming to a boil between his ears.

“Hn.” Fai was normally very good at interpreting the manly noises Kurogane made in lieu of most conversation, but right now it was hard to think of what that one meant, or to think of anything at all for that matter – at least not anything that didn’t veer dangerously southward. (Like the towel knotted snugly about Kurogane’s hips, just low enough to see the crest of his hipbones and the improbable definition of his belt of Adonis.)

“There’s a bento for you in the fridge – there was leftover chicken from last night, so make sure you eat it today,” was what Kurogane said then, gaze narrowing just a little as he looked Fai over. “And get yourself another coffee – you clearly need the caffeine.” Fai had no chance to protest that chiding remark, as Kurogane was already walking to his bedroom, apparently unaware of just how thoroughly he’d rocked Fai’s world. People did not just do things for Fai Flowright as though it cost them nothing at all – except apparently _Kurogane_ did.

Fai shivered. “You didn’t have to,” he called out after a moment of awkward silence, trying to force volume into his voice to cover how it wavered. “I’m not as helpless as I look!”

Kurogane, apparently half-dressed already, stuck his head around the frame of his bedroom door. “I know that.” Even from the kitchen, his frown threatened that any display of self-deprecation would be beaten back by force. “Taking help when it’s offered doesn’t mean you’re helpless.” There was a firmness to the words that sounded like a lesson hard learnt, and maybe it had been by Kurogane himself – but lesson or not, Kurogane disappeared from view once more, and for perhaps the first time since he’d been offered a place to spend the night, Fai could not find a snappy retort to come back with.

Kurogane did a lot for Fai, without being asked, without expectation or obligation or any motivation beyond the simple fact that he could. And before Fai knew it, before Fai could really come to understand it, he’d come to rely on that: the knowledge that he could, if he needed it, reach out – and that Kurogane would reach back.

There was no force in that realisation, no heavy-handed strike as a bolt from the blue; it was more a ripple cast from a stone dropped gently into a pond, a slow swell that started small and grew, and grew, and _grew,_ building into a wave that swept everything else before it.

 _Oh_ , thought Fai, and then nothing else for a long moment that hummed frantic with his racing heartbeat.

Fai was still standing and staring aimlessly at nothing when Kurogane came back to the kitchen, fully dressed and ready for work. He cocked an eyebrow at the weak smile Fai gave him, but said nothing of it; chose instead to bump his shoulder casually against Fai’s as he went for the coat hooks by the door, picking up his shoes as he went. “Hey.”

“Mm?” If Fai sounded thin and thready, it was only fair: he rather felt like he’d been stretched at the seams, warped as though strong hands had grabbed him by the weft and left him reeling as he unravelled. “Are you leaving now, Kuro-tan?”

“Everything will be alright,” was what Kurogane said. It wasn’t the answer Fai had expected, but it rang true all the same: there was no doubt in Kurogane’s voice. Never had been, as long as Fai had known him. “You’ll get it sorted out. And I’ll make sure your brats all know you’re fine, that you just can’t make it in today.” Another kindness unexpected – it would be a relief to know his students wouldn’t have cause to worry.

“Anyway. I don’t have any coaching on tonight, for once – I should be back sometime around six.”

The words were heard but not understood – couldn’t be, in the face of the urge to move that took Fai over without any hope of resistance: a thrill that forced him upright and scrambled him out of the kitchen. Fai cleared the corner of the bench with some speed as Kurogane stepped into his sneakers, crouching down to tie his laces as Fai’s feet pounded across the carpet. Why he felt so urgent, Fai could not have said – but he did, and he _was_ , and when he reached Kurogane the only thing he could think to do was to blurt “Kuro-tan,” as though the man himself could guess what he needed this time just as he had many others before.

“What?” Kurogane looked up at him as Fai approached, and the way Kurogane’s stern chin tipped upwards and those big, clever hands stilled at his laces made something fierce and sweet sink its claws deep into Fai’s squeezing chest. Kurogane’s brow was furrowed, his lips parted, and he stood in a smooth motion that swept him upright like a shadow falling over Fai, dark and looming and everything Fai had never known he wanted. “What is it?”

“I…” The soft sound cracked through dry lips, and Fai wet them without thinking; Kurogane’s gaze, hot on his face, flicked down to his mouth – and then trailed up again, slowly, a weight that Fai felt like a fingertip stroking soft over skin. It was almost like – as though Kurogane was _thinking_ about – _no_ , it couldn’t be. But Fai _knew_ what that look meant, both to give and receive it, and Kurogane _didn’t_ – did he? Could Kurogane possibly want to…?

“Have… have a good day at school,” Fai blurted, horrified even as the words tripped off his tongue. _Have a good day at school? School? What am I – five?!_

Kurogane blinked, and the moment – whatever it was – was gone as quickly as the flick of his eyelashes. “Yeah,” Kurogane said slowly, and his gaze held fast to Fai’s face even as he frowned, one hand shifting the strap of his satchel across his shoulder. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Fai waved from the doorway as Kurogane left, and the smile on his face must have looked as dumb as he felt. What had he expected – for Kurogane to kiss him goodbye on the doorstep, like a husband on his way to work?

(A kiss on the doorstep – there was a thought.)

“Stupid,” hissed Fai, smiling through his teeth as Kurogane’s back carried the rest of Kurogane forward, and disappeared from sight down the stairwell, steel door swinging closed behind him. “Stupid, _stupid_ ,” groaned Fai, slamming his forehead against the wood of the door even as he bolted it shut and clicked the lock into place. “I’m so goddamn stupid.” It was less furious then it was despairing, and Fai felt the heat surge to his face in shame.

He felt hot, and flustered, and not even a little in control of the galloping thud of his heart pounding against his ribs. Slumping away from the door, Fai sighed – and rubbed at the sore patch on his forehead from slamming it against solid wooden panelling with some regret. There was stupidity, and then there was _Fai_ – and the tangle of what he felt and why he felt it was only getting _worse_ , like the first and only time Kurogane had tried to teach him how to knit: his fingers all knotted, and the yarn a frayed and frizzing mess.

He had to stop this. He had to call the insurance agency. He had to arrange to have his ruined furniture removed, and order the delivery of a new lounge suite and chest of drawers online. He had to do anything but stand here, useless.

So, Fai ducked into Kurogane’s spare room to fetch his laptop from his bag, and grabbed the paperwork he’d dropped atop his folded clothes; Fai snatched up the notepad and pen from Kurogane’s kitchen bench, and his phone from where he’d plugged it in to charge, and marched himself into the loungeroom to take a seat before the coffee table. He laid out his laptop and booted it up, arranging the small stack of leasing paperwork next to his elbow. He even remembered to pull out his membership card for his home insurance, and propped it up carefully against his phone. And then, Fai did what Fai had _always_ done when he had gotten himself into such a tangle that even his clever fingers couldn’t pick loose the knot – he called his brother.

* * *

“ _Brother_ ,” said Yuui, the sigh in his voice crackling and soft, “ _have you ever called me for anything other than advice when you’re in trouble?_”

Fai, halfway through a mouthful of crunchy chicken, swallowed hard. “Hey! I call sometimes!” He didn’t, not really. Phone calls were for serious, scary things – like breaking bad news or planning funerals or explaining to your brother that you’d managed to blow a hole in the floor of your apartment due to burst water pipes. Most of Fai’s communication with his twin consisted of texting niche chemistry memes and snaps of the fat little sparrows that nested under the eaves of the balconies at Horitsuba. “I can’t just call because I want to hear your lovely voice?”

 _“No. We both know you’d rather eat tinfoil than spend a minute longer on the phone than you had to.”_ Yuui paused, and for a moment all Fai could hear was the background noise of the student kitchen filtering through the hallway his brother had stepped out into to take this call. “ _Speaking of…_ _are you seriously eating something right now?”_

“No,” mumbled Fai, while obviously chewing another mouthful of cabbage and rice. Okay, so it was barely past nine in the morning and he was already eating the bento Kurogane had made for his lunch – what of it? He was hungry. Also, it was _delicious_ , and as previously established, Fai had poor self-control when it came to tasty food. Seriously tasty food, in this instance, which was also seriously unfair – why was everyone in his life a better cook than he was?

_“At least tell me what it is, if I have to put up with you chewing in my ear.”_

“ _Karaage._ Kuro-chan made it.” Fai shovelled another piece of chicken into his mouth. He’d foregone the chopsticks Kurogane had left out for him, and settled for stabbing aimlessly with his fork. “I was supposed to wait for lunchtime but I’m hungry now.”

Yuui sighed again. “ _You know, breakfast is the meal that most people eat at the beginning of the day_ –” he began, and then huffed in amusement when Fai made over-exaggerated munching noises to drown out the incoming lecture. “ _Well, I suppose I should be grateful to Kurogane-san for making sure you’re reasonably well-fed and taken care of_.”

“That’s not fair – I can take care of myself.” For the most part. Sort of. When his kitchen wasn’t flooding.

 _“Fai. You’re eating_ _lunch at nine in the morning.”_ A pause, and a huffed breath of annoyance. _“Dammit, now you’re making me hungry_.” There was a rustling sound, like he was rummaging in the pocket of his apron for something, and the crinkling noise of a foil wrapper.

“I am actually an adult,” protested Fai. It was true – the age listed on his staff ID proved it. “Okay, being serious here. I don’t know how long it’s going to take to get the hole in my floor fixed, so if you’re still planning on coming down for semester break in April you might have to stay at a hotel.” Fai himself might very well be sleeping in a hotel by then, if his apartment was still unliveable; he couldn’t count on Kurogane’s generosity _forever_.

“ _I’m sure Kurogane-san won’t mind if I ask to borrow his spare room.”_ The distinct sound of his brother munching on a protein bar filtered through the line. “ _I mean, it’s not like you’ll be needing it, and I’ll only be down for a few days besides._”

For just the _tiniest_ fraction of a second, Fai’s head filled with white hot and angry static, a furious crush of hurt feelings at the implication that instead of staying with Fai like he always did, his brother would be sleeping at Kurogane’s place – in the same bed Fai was sleeping in now, the bed he’d already started thinking of as his own – but common sense and horror at his own misplaced jealously prevailed, and Fai managed to shake himself out of a temper before he could really sink into it. “What? But _I’m_ sleeping there.” And if the overblown pout in his voice sounded like real upset, at least Fai could blame it on a bad connection.

Whatever Fai was expecting, it wasn’t his brother laughing – not the full-throated belly laugh he rarely gave into, especially not while at work. “ _Ha – you got me! That sounded almost believable_. _Sleeping in the spare room, please. You’ve wanted to climb that man like a tree from the first day you met him._”

Fai’s stunned silence must have spoke for itself, because when Yuui eventually stopped laughing, he sounded more worried than Fai had heard him for a very long time. “ _Fai, you know I was just teasing_ ,” said Yuui hurriedly. “ _If you really are taking it slow, then that’s fine – I think it’s great that you’re taking your time with this relationship. You’re so much happier being with Kurogane, and you don’t have to just jump straight to having sex with someone just because you’re dating. Especially with someone who really cares about you._ ”

This time the static in Fai’s head wasn’t angry at all, but thoroughly confused – and maybe just a little alarmed, because _what the fuck._ “I’m… I’m not dating Kurogane,” said Fai slowly, in a calm and level voice. “Yuui, _why_ would you think I’m dating Kurogane?” Fai was sounding significantly less calm by the time he reached the end of that sentence, and instead sounded totally panicked. “Yuui, I’m _not_ dating _Kurogane_!”

“ _What_?” Now it was Yuui’s turn to sound confused. “ _But… you gave him chocolate on Valentine’s Day. I distinctly remember you sending me the picture, it had a little cat and a dog on it and it said Be My Valentine – and for once your cursive piping was actually halfway decent._ ” Somewhere in Osaka’s fanciest international culinary academy, a bell rang, but whether it was an oven timer or the class bell, Fai was in no state to figure out.

“So?” he blurted. “People give other people chocolate all the time on Valentine’s Day! It doesn’t have to mean anything!” Despite it being unseasonably cold for a Thursday morning in March, Fai was starting to feel hot under the collar. “I mean. A man can give another man chocolate without it meaning he wants to have _sex_ with him!” Sweat prickled the back of Fai’s neck, and the hand holding his phone to his ear was starting to get uncomfortably slippery.

“ _Ye-es_ ,” said Yuui slowly, “ _but you definitely want to have sex with Kurogane, if the thirst texts you send me about his biceps every time you get sloshed at the bar with him are anything to go by_.”

Fai spluttered. “What! You know drunk texts don’t count!” Fai could _hear_ the disapproval on his brother’s face from over five hundred kilometres away. “Stop looking at me like that!”

The sound of Yuui _thunk_ ing his forehead against a wall was loud and clear, even from Osaka. “ _He gave you a White Day gift! You sent me the pictures yesterday! He knit you a goddamn scarf, Fai – a hand-knit scarf, for you, in your favourite colour!_”

“It’s been really cold!”

“ _Fai_ ,” said Yuui, sounding terrifyingly serious for someone who had just been very exasperated over Fai’s apparent inability to recognise the seriousness of homemade knitwear given as courting gifts, “ _you know Kurogane’s in love with you, right_?”

“…What?” croaked Fai.

“ _Fai_ ,” said Yuui again, this time in the gentle tone of voice one would use to coax a stray kitten onto their verandah and out of the rain, “ _Kurogane is in love with you_. _Kurogane has been in love with you for months, probably. And you gave him chocolate on the most romantic day of the year – a gift he reciprocated when he gave you a scarf for White Day. As far as Kurogane is concerned, you all but told him you feel the same_.”

“That’s not – that’s not possible,” said Fai, in barely more than a whisper. “Kuro-chan can’t – Kuro-chan _doesn’t_ …”

Except Kurogane had eaten the chocolate Fai had given him, and given Fai a White Day gift in return. Except that Kurogane had made him bento for lunch without being asked, and always remembered what Fai’s favourite brand of vending machine hot chocolate was, and went out of his way to get him some when he knew Fai was having a bad day. Except that Kurogane was kind and gentle and so much sweeter than his grumpy scowl and prickly moods would suggest, and that Fai could always tell when he was trying not to laugh because he scrunched his nose up and _hmph_ ed as though he was insulted at the idea of bad jokes. Except that Kurogane was _so good_ around kids, even when he called them all brats and barked at them from across the gymnasium, and would blush ferociously if Fai teased him about it because he just couldn’t accept praise. Except that Kurogane had never once made Fai feel small or strange or stupid for giving up a lucrative career as a chemical analyst to fly halfway around the world and become a high school teacher. Except that Kurogane had a dimple in his cheek, and was terribly handsome, but also an absolute nerd that ranted about awful anime adaptations if he drunk too much cheap beer. And Kurogane had knit Fai a scarf, and had asked Fai to dinner ‘to talk’ on what was most _definitely_ intended to be a date… or at the very least, was something that Kurogane was hoping might become a date, because Kurogane really and truly and utterly _impossibly_ , against common sense and in defiance of all the odds–

“Fuck,” said Fai. “Kurogane’s in love with me.”

It turned out that if an epiphany fell in the mental forest of someone in deep, _deep_ self-denial with no one else around to hear it, it really _did_ make a sound.

“ _Fuck_ ,” said Fai again, this time with feeling, “ _I’m_ in love with _Kurogane_.”

To his credit, Yuui didn’t start clapping or make any kind of smart-mouth comment, but he did sigh deeply, so Fai had to deduct brotherly points from his overall score. “ _Fai_. _I say this with all the love in my heart – you are an absolute fucking doorknob.”_

“You are the meanest person I know,” said Fai mournfully, and also while still being a little (a lot) in shock. “You’re supposed to be the nice one out of the two of us.”

“ _And you were supposed to be the smart one, and look where that got you_.”

In spite of himself, and the absolutely ridiculous mess he’d gotten himself mixed up, Fai had to laugh at the pissy tone in Yuui’s voice. “ _Ouch_. Is that anyway to talk to your little brother?”

“ _You were born first_ ,” said Yuui bluntly.

“Is that anyway to talk to your _older_ brother?” The silence on the line was proof enough that Yuui wasn’t going to let Fai evade any longer. His twin was… honestly a lot like Kurogane, in that regard. “What am I going to do, Yuui?”

“ _What you need to do is actually talk about your feelings for once. What you’re actually going to do is another matter entirely._”

“Please stop being mean,” said Fai weakly. “I’ve just realised I’m in love with my best friend, here.” And probably had been for longer than he really wanted to admit to himself. Fai really _was_ an absolute fucking doorknob.

Another bell rang, and this time it was definitely the class bell, which meant Yuui had no time left. “ _Fai. I’m only going to say this once – and I know it’s hard because out of the two of us, it’s obvious that I got all the braincells in utero – but you really have to listen me: you have to tell him. Just tell him. For the love of all that is good and holy in this world, use your words and tell him you love him_.”

“I have to tell him,” said Fai breathlessly. He really, really did.

“ _Yes. You do. Look, I have to go, but I swear to God if I don’t finish work to a million messages from you about how you and Kurogane-san are eloping to Okinawa for a tropical-themed wedding, I am going to catch the next train so I can smack you_ _in person_ ,” said Yuui, his words rushed but affectionate. “ _Now go get him_.”

Fai had to wipe his phone on his pants leg after Yuui hung up – sweaty hands on plastic phone cover equalled _ew, gross_ – and also carefully detangle himself from where he’d apparently wrapped the laptop cord around his leg as he stood up, but the giddy rush of happiness that came riding in the wake of starry-eyed revelation was more than enough to make him grin. He had to see Kurogane, like, _now_ , and the urgency of it felt like his ribcage was vibrating, like even his _bones_ were excited. It was _absolutely_ a terrible idea to drop everything and run to him – that kind of romantic gesture only got one arrested at airports for dodging security screening – but logic had never really been Fai’s strong suit. He had to go. He _had_ to. It honestly felt like he’d _die_ if he didn’t.

(Fai did, however, take a moment to finish the bento Kurogane had made for him – good food shouldn’t be wasted. And another moment besides was spent rinsing the empty box out with warm water and leaving it propped up in the sink to dry, because he was a guest in Kurogane’s home and also Fai had _manners_ , thank you very much.)

Fai’s sneakers were still sopping wet from yesterday’s unexpected drenching, so Fai shoved his socked feet into the lace-up boots Kurogane had left on his shoe rack. Next, Fai snatched up Kurogane’s own coat hanging on the hook behind the door – comically large but also warm and with deep pockets – and threw it on; then came Fai’s scarf, which was fast becoming his favourite item of clothing ever. Keys and phone disappeared into the cavernous pockets of Kurogane’s coat, and out the door Fai went, his hands jittering the key into the lock as he shook with mad excitement.

The elevator ride felt like purgatory, Fai bouncing in his too-big and borrowed boots. The judgemental looks and snickers that came his way as he dashed across the lobby were as rain to a duck – rolling off sleekly smooth feathers without anything like care. So _what_ if his emotions were written across his face like skywriting blazing across the horizon – Fai didn’t care! Fai was a man on a mission! Fai was also going to break his neck if he kept up the pace running on ice-slick sidewalk, and also more than likely going to get himself arrested if he ignored road safety rules, so across the pedestrian bridge he went, ice crunching under the treads of Kurogane’s boots.

The wind was cold atop the crossing as it fluttered through his hair – which Fai had not, in fact, done anything like comb this morning – but the glow in Fai’s chest was warm, and so was the scarf looped cosily around his neck and shoulders. The heat in his face was also doing its part, seeing as Fai was apparently the most oblivious idiot Horitsuba Academy had ever known. How did he not see it? Was it cultural blindness mashed together with the stubborn refusal to accept his own feelings? Was Fai _the only one_ on campus who hadn’t realised how Kurogane felt about him?!

(Yes, if the betting pool was any indicator.)

“ _Argh!_ ” Several pigeons, huddling together on the handrail, fluttered up in feathery alarm as Fai dashed down the stairs on the other side of the pedestrian bridge. “No wonder Arisugawa kept asking me if I’d gone on any dates lately!”

The rough stone pavers that bricked the walkway to Horitsuba’s front gates were miraculously free of ice, and Fai’s frantic footsteps gained traction and speed as he dashed up the driveway studded with garden beds, ornamental rose bushes reaching bare branches up to the cloud-scattered sky. If Kurogane had _really_ been in love with Fai for so damn long that even the resident romance-freak was getting impatient with Fai’s blissful ignorance, why the hell hadn’t he said anything? Huffing in annoyance, Fai sprinted across wet stone as he ran on with burning heart and burning lungs, completely overlooking his relative position as the pot to Kurogane’s kettle.

Fai almost, _almost_ skidded to a halt as he passed the chairwoman with what was _definitely_ a group of prospective parents for the next year’s student intake – he was absolutely going to have to explain himself later, or risk having this brought up in his next performance review – but stopping now would have just made his ridiculous situation that much worse: better to just keep running, and hope it sorted itself out later. (Tomorrow’s Fai would have a lot to answer for.) Leaving Ichihara-san and her tour group behind in his (metaphorical) dust, Fai bolted for the gymnasium and the grassy expanse of the oval behind it: Kurogane had the second-year students for their second period physical education class every Thursday morning, and there was only one place Kurogane could possibly be.

Each step slipping haphazardly in oversize boots, Fai staggered onto the wet grass. Having run a twenty-minute walk in close to eight minutes flat meant he was dangerously close to suffering a heart attack, but if Fai was very lucky and all went well, he could collapse into Kurogane’s wonderfully muscular arms before he died. “Kuro-chan!” It took all the breath Fai had to shout, but it was enough – Kurogane, a dark figure in a red tracksuit jacket, turned around as the very image of handsome confusion as the teenagers he’d been making run laps started to shout and point in Fai’s direction.

It didn’t even take a second for Kurogane to start jogging towards Fai, long legs loping in easy strides. “What the hell are you doing here? What happened?” Even frowning in concern, Kurogane was a sight for hungry eyes – it felt like days, not hours, since Fai had seen him, and the enormity of the feeling swelling in his chest squeezed a laugh past the knot tightening his throat.

“Are you alright?” What could Fai say? What could Fai possibly say? _Didn’t mean to scare you Kuro-chan, it’s just that I’m an idiot who’s only now realised I’m in love with you? I’m sorry it took me so long but it isn’t really my fault because, as previously mentioned, I’m an idiot._

Maybe it was better if Fai let his actions speak for themselves.

As soon as Kurogane was in grabbing distance, Fai grabbed him: reached out and snatched up two handfuls of that red athletic jacket to drag him close with such force the zipper down the front of Kurogane’s jacket whined in grudging protest as it split open. Kurogane, off-balance on wet grass, staggered forwards in shock – but by then he was close enough for Fai to surge upwards on tip-toes and smash their mouths together in a poor parody of a kiss. It was more like punching Kurogane in the mouth with his own mouth as their teeth clicked and noses bumped, but Fai wasn’t giving up; the greedy hands tangled in Kurogane’s jacket pulled him closer, _closer_ and the shaky gasp that huffed against Fai’s lips sent a happy shudder down his spine as Kurogane swayed in as close as Fai could get him.

Kurogane wasn’t going to reject him, wasn’t going to push him away – and Kurogane _didn’t_ , only pulled back just enough to drag in a shocked breath as Fai’s pulse hammered in his ears. And then Kurogane reached out in return, big hands sliding warmly over cold skin as he took gentle hold, cupping Fai’s face and tilting Fai’s chin up with tender demand as he bent down to meet him. Now it was a _kiss_ , the kind that zapped lightning into Fai’s bones and made the butterflies in his belly burst into fireworks, toes curling with heady delight in his oversized boots as his eyes fluttered closed and Kurogane’s mouth moved against his own like a dream.

Kissing really was the only thing those lips had been made for, and the pleasure centres of Fai’s brain were on _fire_ : igniting in a simmering rush of serotonin and dopamine, oxycotin crashing into his bloodstream in fizzing bursts of chemical elation as Kurogane kissed him, and if you told him later that he had swooned, melting into the firm embrace that slid warm, rough hands down his back and wrapped strong arms around his waist, Fai would have believed you. He could name the physiological processes behind his blood vessels dilating, explain the enzymatic crash of testosterone surging in his brain as his hormone levels spiked – but he couldn’t have said why he’d waited for so long for something he so desperately needed.

Fai’s curled toes were trembling when the kiss closed, the soft _smack_ of their lips parting loud in the ringing silence of his empty head. Every fragment of thought or reason was gone, and when Kurogane smiled at him – crooked and dazed and dimpled, his eyes warm and his pounding heartbeat thumping hard enough Fai could feel it pressed against his own chest – Fai knew he wouldn’t miss them. “Hey,” said Fai softly, breathlessly, with lips still wet from Kurogane’s own mouth.

Kurogane stared at him, and then spoke through lips Fai knew really were as soft as they looked. “What the _hell_.”

It wasn’t a question, but Fai answered like it was. “I love you.” What else was there to be said? Fai loved him. It had taken him long enough to realise it, he couldn’t bear to waste another moment without saying it.

“You do?” Kurogane sounded just as breathless as Fai felt, and Fai had maybe half a second to think that he really, _really_ liked catching that breathy tone in that deep and lovely voice before the wolf-whistle to end all wolf-whistles split the air, cracking the moment open like an eggshell.

The slow horror dawning on Kurogane was like the sunrise, and his face flushed with glowing red much the same. “Fuck,” he mumbled, and Fai wouldn’t have heard him over the claps and cheers that rang out behind them but for how he buried his face in Fai’s tangled hair, lips moving as he huffed a sigh. Of course they had a teenage audience, and of course said teenage audience was going fucking _bananas_ – it wasn’t every day two of the faculty liplocked in front of all and sundry in the middle of the back oval during second period.

“This is _your_ fault,” Kurogane continued, and the big hands resting on Fai’s hips squeezed forcefully to make his point. (Unfortunately for Kurogane, the point made wasn’t quite the one he intended, and Fai’s libido was just about ready to sit up and beg from the delicious force pressing into his skin through those fingertips.)

“Oh, absolutely,” said Fai, and he just had to laugh as Kurogane pulled free of his arms – the furrow of that brow and the dark thunder of his expression screamed he was pissed off, but the helpless twitch of his mouth and the crinkle of his nose was enough to save Fai’s bacon. Their ecstatic audience was still applauding – Fai could have sworn he caught a girlish _“Woo!”_ in Tomoyo-chan’s distinct voice somewhere in the middle there – but the cheers turned to _oohs_ and gasps as the distinct silhouette of the chairwoman gliding towards them faded into view like a mirage on the horizon.

“While this is certainly lovely, gentlemen,” purred Yuuko, somehow mainting perfect balance in stiletto heels that did not _dare_ to sink into the wet grass, “and congratulations are most definitely in order–” Here she paused with a smirk for the obligatory refrain of cheering from Kurogane’s class of rowdy teens, and Fai’s stomach sank somewhere to the vicinity of his socks, “–I rather think that this is definitely something better taken care of _outside_ of school hours, mm?” Sharks could not smile so sharply as Yuuko Ichihara in a good mood, and Fai could only be grateful for the sudden, we-totally-weren’t-sucking-face distance that yawned open between himself and Kurogane.

“Yes, M’am,” mumbled Kurogane, scolded and sulking, and Fai made sure he babbled his own apologies and assurances that it wouldn’t happen again on campus grounds even as one perfect eyebrow raised in a clear rebuttal that sang _I highly doubt that_ as though she’d said it herself _._ And now that Fai had thoroughly embarrassed himself and Kurogane both in front of their employer and her touring prospectives – not to mention the unforgettable and incredibly noisy gang of kids behind them – it was the rush of reality sinking in that ruffled Fai’s hair like a cold breeze.

“ _And you lot!_ ” snarled Kurogane, stomping one threatening step forward and making his class squeal in delighted terror, “ _will be running another twenty laps if you don’t shut up!_ ” As far as threats went it was more bark and bluster than actual bite, which was just as obvious as the furious blush colouring Kurogane’s cheeks, but it worked (sort of) as twenty-odd high schoolers shrieked and ran for the athletics tracks with only minimal chaos. It wouldn’t be enough, of course; by lunchtime the rumours would be exploding exponentially across campus, and Kurogane would definitely have to walk-of-shame it back to the staff room before then, but, well. Fai couldn’t be in _too_ much trouble.

After all, Kurogane had kissed him back.

“I knew it would suit you,” was what Kurogane said then, stepping in close again, though still far away enough it could _almost_ pass for professional. He reached out to Fai’s scarf, straightening the folds that had slumped haphazardly over Fai’s shoulders and pulling its loops a fraction tighter. The gentle tug of those hands was an invitation of its own, and Fai took his own steps closer, close enough that the distance between them wasn’t professional at all. “I’m… it’s good that you’re wearing it.”

“I don’t want to take it off,” said Fai honestly, earning himself a flicker of a crooked smile.

“You should go home,” sighed Kurogane, and then swallowed hard, eyes widening. “I meant. You should go back to my apartment so you can, uh, sort out _your_ apartment.” God. He was cute even when he was awkward – cut _er_ , probably. The hands tugging at Fai’s scarf fell away slowly, trailing gently as they smoothed the wool flat against Fai’s chest, and even that brief touch was enough to make Fai shiver. “I’ll… I’ll see you tonight?”

“I’ll see you tonight,” agreed Fai, and reached up on tiptoes once more, brushing a kiss against a hot and blushing cheek. “I can't wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Mokita_ is an interesting word - the best equivalent I could come up with in English was 'the elephant in the room': something that is obviously there, but no one talks about, either out of embarrassment or sheer obliviousness.
> 
> For anyone unfamiliar with the English idiom, it works because you're going to be well aware there's an elephant in the room with you. It's bloody _huge_ , makes loud noises, and is generally impossible to ignore. You have to move carefully around it, or you might get squished - and there's not a lot of space to do anything else _but_ notice it, besides. You can’t hide it, you can only try and pretend it isn’t there… even if it doesn’t work very well. But somehow, talking about it is just too much. It might be too painful, too embarrassing, or you might even think it's _so damn obvious _that you don't even need to talk about it. I mean, it's an _elephant_ in the room!   
> So I started thinking about something really obvious that no one was talking about… and then along the way I started thinking about cultural assumptions. You know, assuming everyone has the same context and background as you. Like how if you’ve always and only lived in one country, you might think that every other country in the world thinks the same way, or has the same beliefs or holidays or even food that yours does. Like Valentine’s Day, for instance. In Australia, you only give a Valentine’s gift to someone you really love, in a romantic sense, and it's only adults that do so. Yet on American TV I kept seeing kids exchanging Valentine’s cards, which was so strange to me – at least until I learned that it’s really common for children to give cards as platonic symbols of friendship in the U.S.__
> 
> __White Day was just as much of surprise to me. White Day is an aspect of Valentine’s Day that originated in Japan, and it’s the only “answering” holiday to Valentine’s Day that I know of. If girls give chocolate to the boys they like on Valentine’s Day, then White Day is for boys to return the favour and give a gift to the girls who gave them chocolate… and in doing so, imply their feelings are returned. It’s a very sweet gesture (especially if you don’t think about the marketing and commercialisation behind it)._ _
> 
> __So I thought about that too. And then I mashed _mokita_ and obvious elephants and not knowing what White Day was and came up with this ridiculous plot. I honestly believed I could bang this out in less than 10K words. Hah!_ _
> 
> __2019 was a rough year for me, and well, 2020 hasn’t been that great for _anyone._ But things are getting better for me lately – my health has improved so much that it’s almost unbelievable. I signed up for the Olympics this year even though I had major surgery on my plate in June to give me something to cheer myself up during a mandatory four weeks of recuperation post-operation, and it was the best decision I could have made. I wrote most of this fic in those four weeks (some of it while in bed!) and it was exactly what I needed to feel positive again. I hope reading this fic has given you something happy to enjoy too._ _
> 
> __If you’re reading this in August 2020, I would really love it if you could vote for me in the KuroFai Olympics. I’m representing Team Fluff, and I hope I’ve done my team and the spirit of my prompt justice!_ _
> 
> __**Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment and follow the link to vote!**  
>  <https://forms.gle/FLNVYFdMuLfraGkKA>_ _


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